The Letter
by theweezil
Summary: It all started with a letter she thought he would never read. She couldn't have been more wrong. Movieverse. The rating will change later on, T for violence and language as of right now.
1. Chapter 1

Hello friends...well, I watched V for Vendetta and became mega obsessed. And I know, I know, the old "V lives" thing has been done a lot. But I read all of those, and had nothing better to do. So, I decided to take the plunge and write one myself. Reviews would be lovely, but, I won't become some review monger. Enjoy lovelies!

Chapter 1

_My Dearest V, _

_I know that you will never read these words, but it comforts me to write them none the less. It was nearly two hours ago that you gave your life for your revolution. The pain of losing you is almost indescribable. My heart feels as though it is being ripped in half. I will never stop missing you. But more importantly, I will never stop loving you. I don't know when I realized it, but I regret how long it took me to find out. Death is interesting in that respect. It makes you realize your regrets, after it's too late. So I'm left to wonder what might have happened had I realized this sooner. Would you still be here? Would you have ever made that fateful deal with Creedy? Would we have watched London rise, together?_

_But I'm not writing you to ask "what if". I want you to know, that while I don't agree with you, I understand why you made the choices you did. Why you felt that you had no place in the world that was about to take flight. Revenge can only spark a revolution; it cannot lead it. I realize that. I respect and admire that. But you couldn't have been more wrong. Of course you have a tree waiting for you. It is here, with me. I wasn't lying when I said that you were one of the most important things that has ever happened to me. You made me who I am today. I will always admire your strength, your courage, and your genius. I will always remember your idea, but more importantly I will always remember you, the man. I love you, V. With all of my heart. If I could tell you just one more thing, that would be it. I'm sorry it took me this long to realize. _

_So although you will not be here to see me do it, I will continue your revolution in a way I hope you see fit. I will see to it that your sacrifices were not in vain. You will have your revolution, and the people will always remember you. The man. The man that I love. _

_Yours, _

_Evey_

With a shaky breath, Evey Hammond gently replaced the pen to its rightful place on V's desk. The stationary she had been writing on was now covered in her fine script, along with many of her tears. Drawing herself up, Evey carried the sheet with her out of V's illustrious study and into the Shadow Gallery's main room.

She sat on his chaise lounge and stared at the piece of parchment. What was the tradition about writing letters to the dead? Was she to burn the letter? Let it drift down an ambling brook? It was something that V would have known. Evey was almost able to smile, picturing the scene as V effortlessly recalled the fact that he had read long ago. Almost. She looked down at the letter once again, letting yet another tear fall onto its yellowing surface. The tear landed on her signature at the end of the letter, warping it, making it almost unrecognizable.

Evey decided that it would be best not to take any action with the letter, lest she horribly offend some ancient custom that V could have properly taught her about. No, without V's instruction she decided that for now, it would be better this way. She stood, and walked slowly towards the old Wurlitzer. Pressing the button she knew would both haunt and heal her, Evey played the song of their last dance. The music played slowly out of the jukebox as Evey stood in the middle of the room with her eyes closed, letter pressed close to her chest. She swayed gently, and with the memory still so fresh and precious, she could even feel V's hand gently alighted on her hip. She could feel how his hand tentatively gripped hers, as if he either didn't believe she was actually there, or didn't want to harm or frighten her. Perhaps it was both.

The song faded out, and with a "click" the Wurlitzer stopped. Evey opened her eyes to take in the Gallery. She had always been amazed at the beautiful home V had made for himself in such a dark place. The treasures he had amassed here were unbelievable, and during her stay here, she always went to explore the nooks and crannies of the Gallery when she had that chance. When she curled up with one of his old books, or perhaps sat in front of an old painting of his, Evey could sense the pride emanating from the mask, V loving that someone else enjoyed his collection. And even though he had left it all to her, even though now it was _her_ collection, Evey couldn't stay here. It would be far too difficult. The memories began to suffocate her, both the good and the bad, and she knew that she had to leave.

Evey placed the sheet of paper on the Wurlitzer after placing a soft kiss on her beloved's name. She stood back to look around. This place had become such an integral part of her life, but now she felt almost wrong being here, knowing that V would not soon be walking through the door or making her favorite "eggy in a basket" in the kitchen. Maybe one day, she would be strong enough to return. If anything, just to maintain the Gallery. To dust and clean V's prized possessions and take care of Valerie's shrine. She could at least do that for him, after everything he had done for her. But that day would not come. Not for a long time.

Before she could turn and walk out the door, Evey was suddenly struck by an impulse. She wandered back through the Gallery and walked directly to the door she never thought she would have to courage to approach. The door to V's quarters. For a brief second, Evey wondered if she should give V his privacy, even in death. But she knew that was foolish. He had told her, the night of her release from prison, that there would no longer be any locked doors here in the Gallery. And furthermore, technically, this room was now hers. Everything was. She hated using that logic for doing something as sacred as this, entering V's bedroom, but she couldn't stop herself. She pushed open the door, and quickly approached his closet. Normally, Evey would have been filled to the brim with curiosity. But she already felt like she was crossing a line, and did not want to snoop in this man's most private dwelling. Evey threw open the door to the closet and saw V's wardrobe, meticulously hung up and organized. Everything was either black or some variant of the color; grays and the odd navy shirt hung up in his closet. Evey reached tentatively towards a black shirt that looked familiar, and gently touched the soft, silky fabric. Before she could change her mind, Evey slid the shirt off of its hanger as carefully as she could, and tossed it over her arm. She shut the door to the closet, and without lingering she closed the door to his room as well.

As a courtesy, Evey turned all of the lights off in the Gallery, before taking one last look at what had once been her sanctuary and her prison. Finally, she turned on her heel, and with her new acquisition, walked out of the Shadow Gallery.

It was late by the time Evey returned home. She had taken her time, watching the people of London rejoice in their new freedom. Every time she saw a Guy Fawkes mask, her heart skipped a beat, but none of them could ever hold a candle to her lost beloved. Regardless, it made Evey's heart swell with happiness as she watched what V's work had brought about in London. He had freed these people of their fear; he had pointed them towards the path that would lead to their freedom. So Evey Hammond took her time as she walked back home that November the 5th. Because as the people walked about London that night, she could almost feel V's presence.

She let herself into her flat, and shrugged off her jacket. Everything was the way she had left it the night of the fourth, anxiously getting ready to return to the masked revolutionary. It chilled her. Deciding against a shower, in part because she was too tired and also because she wanted the last residue of him to remain with her that night, Evey changed into a pair of knickers and slid on V's shirt. It was far too large, swinging down lazily over her thighs, but Evey didn't care. It still smelled like him, and still felt like him. So she crawled into bed with his shirt wrapped around her. She would be stronger in the morning. She would get a grip once she woke up. She would become the strong, fearless voice of the revolution that V wanted her to be. But for now, the fates would watch as the strong Evey Hammond crumbled and wept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey there kiddos. Here is the next chapter, for those of you who are reading this! Also, I may have lied when I said I wouldn't become a review monger. I would greatly appreciate some reviews, and constructive criticism! If you don't mind, lovelies. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2

_November 4__th__, 11:58_

All he could see was the girl. The girl. At first, she was being attacked. And then she was laughing. And then her head was shaved and she was screaming. And finally, she was crying. What was her name? He knew her name. Because she was important. The way his mind kept relaying her face told him that she was important. But why couldn't he remember her name? Or anything for that matter? He could hear her voice, panicked, crying out "V? V!" That one syllable was playing on a loop in his head. _V…V! Evey! _

Everything came crashing back down to reality, as V sputtered and gasped for breath. The first thing he noticed was the crushing pain that radiated throughout his body. The second thing he noticed was the rumbling sounds and bumps of a train. The third thing he noticed was that there were roses placed all over his body. The fourth thing he realized was that the train was loaded with explosives of his own design, headed right for Parliament. The pain numbed his mind and made it hard for him to think, but he was able to piece together just enough to understand what was happening. He had gone to Creedy, and had been shot countless times. Any normal human being would still be lying dead in the old Victoria station. But he had managed to fight his way out to make his way back to Evey.

Evey.

He had laid there in her arms, dying. He had confessed his love for her, knowing full well that he would die. And that was what happened, right? Evey had put him on the train, lord knows how, given their difference in size. She had given him his Viking funeral. She had given him his revolution. She had given England its new life. But most of all, she had given him her acceptance. After everything he had put her through, she had accepted him and his ideals. She knew what was right. And she had pulled that lever without fear.

After 20 years of plotting, his hatred and thirst for revenge had won. He had accepted his fate, knowing that he would die for his vendetta. There was no place in the new world for him, he knew that. And he had died, hadn't he? He was riddled with so many bullets that even with his superior healing abilities and high threshold for pain, succumbed to the steel embedded within his flesh. Right? If that was so, how could he still be here?

She had said she didn't want him to die. That was what she had said, moments before he thought he did exactly that. Is that why he wasn't dead? Was it her wish that had resurrected him? For all his genius, V wasn't sure. But he realized that if he was somehow alive, it was no coincidence. And if it was in fact Evey's wish that had brought him back from death's doorstep, who was he to refuse it? He concluded that if he was meant to be dead, he would still be laying there with roses covering his body.

Lurching forward, V scattered the roses along the train car. He stumbled forward, the pain almost causing him to blackout. But somehow he managed to stand and find his way to the door of the train car. He knew the doors would not open if the train was running, and there was nothing that could have made him stop the train that would bring his revolution to fruition and his vendetta to an explosive close. In his current state, however, V doubted that he had the physical strength the force the doors open. His only other option was to make his way to the end of the car, stand out on the platform connecting the cars, and jump.

But of course, this next plan of action was ruled out due to the explosives blocking both doors. If he ever made it out of here, V would have laughed at the irony. But now, his only thought was escape. How had his life made such a dramatic turnaround in such a short time? It was only minutes ago that he told Evey that he was glad to be finished; that he was content and ready to die. And now, he would do everything in his power to uphold her final wish for him.

The only other option V could fathom was to break one of the windows on the door and jump for safety. And he had very little time to accomplish this feat. Knowing that Parliament drew nearer with every passing second, V hurled his shoulder at the window. V was nearly on the brink of death, but even in his weakened state his strength was still impressive. The glass shattered, and he climbed as best he could into the small window. He had mere seconds before the final platform before Parliament appeared, and he threw himself forward with all of his might. He landed roughly on the platform, the pain screaming in his veins while his lungs searched for the breath that had been knocked out of them. Knowing what was coming next, V dragged himself to the nearest supporting beam and covered as much of his head as he could.

The shockwave rattled V to his core, and a feeling of pride swelled in his chest. He was obviously proud that his explosives had detonated, and that the "boom" was most impressive. But most of the pride was for the woman who had pulled the lever. His Evey. His heart ached at the thought of her now, watching Parliament getting blown sky high. For England, this moment signified freedom and hope. But for her, he knew that Evey would think of that the building being reduced to rubble in front of her as the assurance that he was dead.

After the shockwave came a blast of hot air, and V could hear the crumbling of stone and the detonation of more explosives. He waited until the most severe blasts were finished and the fireworks were slowly receding before using the last of his strength to propel him out into New London.

After taking as many hidden alleyways as he could, V had managed to avoid detection until he found an old home that Norsefire had boarded up months ago. V scowled when he thought of what probably happened to the previous tenants. The ply wood was no match for V even in his weakened state, and he managed to make his way into the building's bathroom. Thankfully, Norsefire had been particularly negligent about this house, and had left the house with running water. Struggling as he made his way around the bathroom, V opened up the medicine cabinet, locating a long pair of tweezers and a bottle of aspirin. He knew it would do little to help him, but it was better than having nothing in his system. A roll of gauze was shoved back in the corner, and although it was dusty it would serve its purpose. V also heaved a sigh of relief as he found a bottle of rubbing alcohol. If he was to die of anything, he refused to have it be an infection of all things.

V sat down with a thud on the bathroom tile and first slid off his gloves, and then unbuttoned his shirt. The scars sneered at him, laughing at his situation. They knew that had they not been there, had he been unscarred underneath these layers of clothing, he could have gone to find real medical attention. And if he would admit it, he might have found the courage to tell Evey much sooner about his affections, although he doubted it would have changed anything. These scars controlled him; they owned him. Sighing, he let the shirt fall away and took stock of his injuries. The scars on his muscular torso looked even angrier than usual, their redness enhanced by their owner's blood.

Thankfully, the armor plate he had worn slowed the bullets enough so that they didn't lodge in his vital organs, but they were deep enough to require some digging on V's part. He hissed in pain as he located the first bullet and slowly pulled it out, letting it fall onto the tile floor. It felt as though he was on fire once again, only this time, it was burning from the inside out. The next few hours were spent this way, V digging bullets out of his own flesh as he bit back cries of pain. Once he was finished, he poured alcohol on the wounds, stoking the embers of his internal flame. He had no strength left to try and find needle and thread to stitch the worst of his wounds together. V did the best he could in wrapping his torso, arms, and shoulders in gauze. As he stood to make his way to the nearest bedroom, V pressed a towel against his worst injury, which was still bleeding profusely. The pressure was not enough to stop the bleeding; he had to cauterize the wound.

The idea of voluntarily burning himself sent V into a moment of panic as he remembered the pain and agony of Larkhill's flames. But he knew that he had to. If he did not stop the bleeding, he would surely die of blood loss. Stumbling into the kitchen, he prayed for another miracle: that the stove still worked. And once the spark ignited, V knew that the fates were smiling upon him that November the 5th. Not knowing what else to use, V held a metal spoon into the flames until it was red hot. Sucking in a deep breath, V steadied his nerves as best as he could before forcing the burning metal onto his scarred flesh.

This time, V was not able to hold back his cry of agony. Even his high tolerance for pain could not handle this. The images from Larkhill immediately plagued V's mind and left him reeling. He dropped the spoon once it had done its work and quickly shut off the stove. Most of his other wounds had now begun to bleed again due to the sudden activity, but V had no more energy. He collapsed on the nearest item of furniture, which happened to be the family's old couch, and tried to make himself comfortable. V knew that he would need lots of rest in order for his body to begin its rigorous healing process, but as hard as it was for him to admit, he would need help. But not from Evey.

V had already decided that he would not insinuate himself back into her life. He knew that she would lead the revolution, and he had told her that there was nothing for him in the new world. He did not want to influence her, because he wanted it to be the people's revolution. He could not lead that, because he had no way to now that his vendetta had been completed. No, he would not influence her. And as horribly as it pained him, he would let her continue her new life without him. She could not live among the shadows; she belonged in the light of the new world she was helping to shape. It was for the best. But he would ensure that nothing would ever harm her. He would be her protector, her silent guardian. But she could not, and would not know that he was alive, which is why V could not go to her for help. No, help would come from a man who already owed V a great debt for saving his own life. Help would come from a man named Gordon.

* * *

_November 11__th_

Almost a week had gone by since Parliament had been blown sky high. The gentleman sitting at his kitchen table was perusing the newspaper in front of him when his partner dropped the morning post on top of the article he was reading. Gordon Deitrich, a man thought by many to be dead, rolled his eyes at his partner, Philip.

"Philip, I was reading that, thank you very much." He said, rather peeved. Philip only chuckled as he poured himself a cup of coffee and refreshed the one his partner had been idly sipping on. Gordon cleared away the post and continued reading the article that held his attention. It was the cover story, and it had immediately snatched his interest from the arresting picture of the young, clean shaven Evey Hammond next to the headline, "THE VOICE OF THE REVOLUTION". Gordon hadn't seen her since the night his home was raided, the night he was captured and "killed". It was still a shock to him to see her with her shorn head, determined gaze, and the dark circles that had appeared under her eyes.

He had desperately wanted to reach out to her, especially in the days following the news that V had in fact been killed in the explosions at Parliament. Gordon knew that the revolutionary was an enormous part of Evey's life, and his death was putting great strain on the young girl who was trying to change an entire nation. But he was impressed none the less with her determination and perseverance. She had help, from men like Eric Finch and Dominic Stone, who wanted to help her bring about change. And Gordon had no doubt in his mind that this girl, no, this _woman _would do nothing but succeed.

"You haven't been listening to a world I've been saying, have you?" Philip asked, amused. He sat down next to Gordon and placed a comforting hand on his wrist. Gordon looked up, "Hmm? Oh, Philip. I'm sorry. I was quite enraptured with this morning's headline. She is certainly an incredible young woman."

"If I didn't know any better, I would be jealous." Philip teased. "But you received a most interesting letter today in the post. I think you should open it." The tall, blonde man gave Gordon a knowing look. He retrieved the letter from the stack, and handed it over to Gordon. The address was written in shockingly fine, beautiful script. And it was handwriting that both men had come to recognize as V's. Gordon almost choked on the sip of coffee he was taking. He shot a glance up at Philip, "Are you entirely sure that this came in the post _this morning_?"

Philip nodded, "That is why I am suggesting that it might be of some importance." Philip rose to make breakfast, and give Gordon a moment of privacy to read the letter. With trembling hands, V gingerly took the letter and traced the fine cursive with his finger tip. His curiosity finally got the better of him and he carefully opened the letter, revealing more of V's meticulous handwriting.

_Gordon-I know that my writing you must come as a shock, especially as most news sources have reported my death. But, you are no stranger to this scenario yourself. I must admit that I am in need of your assistance, in two things. The first, and most important, is that Evey must not know that I am alive. I have promised not to intervene in the world she is creating. She is not suited to a life among the shadows. However, this being said, I feel that it would be a good idea for her sake, and yours, if you let her back into your life. She is in need of a good friend, and I trust you to be one. _

_The second matter I require your assistance with will also require the utmost secrecy, save for Philip of course. As I am sure you have heard on the news reports, I was in fact shot by Creedy and his men. I have done the best that I possibly can, removing all the bullets and stopping the bleeding to the best of my ability. But I am in desperate need of resources until I am strong enough to return to my home. Anything that you might be willing to give would be greatly appreciated. The address where I am staying is on the back of my letter. Come alone. I am sure that I don't have to remind a fellow dead man how important secrecy is. _

_-V_

Gordon had to read the letter twice more before he could finally process the information presented to him. Philip had prepared scrambled eggs and toast, and was now placing a steaming hot plate in front of Gordon, watching his expression carefully.

Philip had gotten quite good at interpreting Gordon's facial expressions, from the tiniest twitch of his mouth to smallest glint in his eyes. And the news that Gordon had received was clearly shocking, but also perplexing. Gordon's eyebrows knit together in thought and the corner of his mouth kept twitching to the right, which Philip knew to be a sign of anxiety. "I take it that the news isn't exactly good," Philip ventured. Gordon shook his head in the negative.

"No, it appears that our good friend has sustained some rather extensive injuries, and will require our assistance," Gordon said. He chose his words carefully, knowing that although Norsefire had been overthrown, the Ear was still operational.

"He must know that he has more medical experience than either of us combined. What does he need?"

"Our friend is in need of resources, apparently. I have the address here. He says that his wounds were…taken care of. I would assume the basics: food, medical supplies, clothing, and bedding. These are things that we can easily take care of." Gordon concluded.

With a nod, Philip finished the last few bites of his breakfast and grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil. V had given him the opportunity to be with the man he loved. The least they could both do was provide him with what he needed to survive. "Let's make a list shall we? Non-perishables will be best at first, since we don't know the situation with electricity. But if I know V, I know it won't take him long to remedy that situation. Perhaps some fruit? An apple a day keeps the doctor away." Philip continued to write down his ideas and Gordon's other suggestions until they had a decent list to start with. Gordon had also decided to donate some of his clothing to the cause, although he doubted it would hold to V's standards. He did make sure that it was black though, and both the shirt and the trousers were long enough to cover the scars he knew V wanted to hide.

After a quick jaunt to the market, Philip helped Gordon pack up their "care package". For this clandestine meeting, it was agreed upon that it would have to be done by the cover of darkness. And so, they waited.

* * *

V was resting when he heard a faint knock on the door. There was only one person it could be, so he rose and opened the door, greeting his visitor as only a true gentleman would.

"Gordon, my good man! I trust that you found the old house alright?" V asked cordially, although he said it mostly out politeness.

"No no, I had no trouble at all. She certainly is a fixer-upper; I trust you got a good price?" Gordon responded, without missing a beat. "We weren't sure of the current electrical situation, so for now we brought you some non-perishable food items, along with some basics. Toiletries, fresh linens, and there is some clothing, although I cannot say how well they will fit. Happy house warming, V." Gordon placed the large, cumbersome box on the nearest table as V welcomed him inside.

"Thank you, Gordon. And to Philip, as well. Words cannot express my gratitude. And as to the electricity, that situation shall not need to be addressed. I shall only be here until I am healed, and then I shall find a more…secure dwelling. The supplies you have brought me will be most adequate." V replied. He grabbed the box and walked it into the kitchen. V began to unpack the groceries as he pondered his next words.

"Gordon, I trust the first part of my letter was also upheld?" V asked cautiously. He watched Gordon's reaction out of the corner of his eye, watching for any of the tell tale signs of deception. Gordon did not display any deception as he replied, but his visage was conflicted.

"V, I am a man of my word. I have not revealed you to the lady, although I must admit I am quite puzzled that you don't want me to. Evey may appear to be a strong woman on the outside, but I can see the weariness on her face. She misses you V, and she cares about you. Why would you insist on putting her through this?" Gordon also chose his words carefully, hearing first hand from Evey about the temper this man possessed.

V had to rein in that infamous temper of his, although Gordon's final statement did give him pause. He absolutely loathed the fact that he was causing Evey more pain, even in death. He had already dealt this woman quite enough of that for a lifetime. He still did not appreciate the accusation. "Gordon, I respect what you are trying to say. But let me assure you, this is for the best." He said slowly. Gordon let out a puff of air, knowing how futile it was to argue with a man like V, especially now. Instead, he turned the subject to V's injuries. "You mentioned that you were injured, in the letter. Is there anything you require…medical assistance with? I have provided some supplies in our little 'care package.'"

"I have taken care of the most grievous injuries myself, and your medical supplies are again most appreciated. And as you may or may not know, I heal quite well."

"I see. I am glad to hear it. I can't say how useful I would be when it comes to first aid," Gordon said ruefully. "But I have one more question, before I leave you to relax. How do you propose I bring Evey back into my life? I could hardly lie to Philip about his surprise party. What am I to tell her, in regards to my being alive? Shall I tell her you assisted me?"

V had been thinking about this since he wrote out this suggestion on paper. He knew how desperately Evey needed a friend in this difficult time in her life. She needed to take some time for herself, so that she didn't burn herself out on his revolution. _Her_ revolution. He knew how hard she worked, (it even reminded him of himself at times) and he worried that she might exhaust herself. He had thought long and hard about this decision, but for Evey's sanity, and ultimately his, he needed her to have someone to confide in. "You must tell her the truth, although not about me being alive. Regrettably, it will be another lie of omission. But you may tell her of how I assisted you and Philip, if that is your wish."

Gordon nodded thoughtfully. "Alright then, I'll leave you to your evening. It's a lovely night after all, and I wouldn't want to keep Philip waiting. One day you must come down for tea to see the new estate. Have a good evening, V." Gordon got up to leave, grabbing his coat and mittens to beat the bitter cold of this late November night. He shook V's hand, as any gentleman would do upon leaving, and began the journey home.

Once he had returned home, Gordon discovered Philip waiting for him in the sitting room, book in hand. Philip looked up anxiously, "Well, how did it go?" Gordon only chuckled slightly as he sat down next to his partner.

"Tell me Philip, how would you like to meet The Princess of the Revolution?"

**A/N**

**So for the record, I have a plan for this story written out for quite a while into the future. I am expecting many more chapters, and I have a plan, honestly. It just needs to be written out! :) (Keep me motivated, will you?) BUT I can give you a little taste of the next chapter: We are back with Evey, and she will address London for the first time. Prepare for a night with Gordon! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello Lovelies! Here is chapter 3 and...chapter 4! Boom, a two-fer. I hope you enjoy, reviews are loved! (Alot. God, I'm a terrible person for the lie I told you before.) **

Chapter 3

Evey shifted nervously in her seat as a crew of makeup artists, technicians, and other important people buzzed around her. The makeup woman kept insisting that Evey wear a little more blush to add some color to her cheeks, or to allow her to use a little more foundation under her eyes to make her look more lively. When the woman made some remark about how Evey's hair was "utterly hopeless", an already irritated Evey curtly excused her.

"Not much fun now that we're encouraging it, is it?" It was Eric Finch, approaching Evey with a steaming cup of coffee. "I hope we did a good job on the set. We didn't have much to go on except the video itself." He and Evey looked around the set where she was currently being fussed over. There were red, velvet curtains behind Evey and a black desk sat before her, with a single sheet of paper and a pen to give it the illusion of use. "The set looks great, Eric. I suppose I'm just not used to being fussed over by so many people. I recommend that we _don't_ hire the same makeup artist in the future, however." Evey replied.

"She did a great job though. You look lovely, Evey." Finch allowed. Evey had donned black, naturally. It was a simple black turtle neck, and Finch couldn't help but appreciate how well it fit her. The makeup artist had wanted to give Evey a pristine, airbrushed look; however, Evey wanted no part in that, suggesting instead that she look as natural as possible. She had accepted lipstick, and some slight blush but that was all. Evey wanted to seem relatable. She also wanted London to be able to see the burden she was now carrying on her face. She did not want to cover the dark circles under her eyes or soften her determined stare; she was proud of these features, and now wore them like badges of honor.

Evey smiled at the compliment, but said nothing else. Suddenly, a large red light came on in warning, and one of the directors began a countdown. Finch gave Evey one last encouraging smile, and walked back behind the camera. Evey settled herself, and glanced at the first cue card, although she already knew the words she was about to say by heart. The director reached zero, the on air light flashed on, and Evey took a deep breath. And then, she began:

"Good Evening, London. I thought that in the spirit of commemoration, we should all sit down and have a little chat. Last night, you, the people of London rose up to oppression and overcame your fear. Last night, we all showed the government exactly why it should be afraid of its people, and not the other way around. I am so proud of you. V would have been to.

Norsefire would have had you believe that V was a terrorist. But V showed us the way to look past fear and not blindly accept what the government tells us as truth. He taught us about the powers of ideas. We shall never forget the idea that he gave to us. But let us also never forget the man who gave us the idea. V gave us the power to free ourselves. He taught us _all _how to live without fear.

V died giving us this ability, and giving us our revolution. He knew that he would not be able to lead us down a proper path, because his path had always been motivated by revenge. But our path cannot be lead that way. He understood this, and now it is up to us to lead _ourselves _into the future.

You have some serious decisions ahead of you. We have brought down the previous regime, and it is our duty to ensure that nothing like Norsefire will ever rise to power again. We, the people, have the power to create our new government. Your voices will be heard, and never again will they be squandered.

There is a lot of rebuilding we must do, thanks to the ruins Norsefire left us in. We must begin to rebuild both our suffering infrastructure, and our economy. But we must also rebuild our lives. It will take time, but one day we will return to the prosperous nation we once were. You will decide how we get to that point.

In a year's time, next November the 5th, we will hold elections for everything from your new leaders, to the type of government you wish to see take hold. Will we return to the monarchy, or perhaps a system of democracy? That choice falls to you. You will have the power to vote for your government, your leaders, and your laws. You have a year to think about what you want to have happen London, a year where anything is possible and a year that voices will be heard. We will begin having city council meetings every month to ensure that we know what to put on the ballot. The results of the elections will be announced on New Years Eve, and the transition will occur on New Years Day.

But some of you may be asking, who is 'we'? Who will lead us for the next year? Those are all fair questions. For the next year, it has been decided that we will uphold the law that was instated before Norsefire rose to power as the government system. Former Head Inspector Eric Finch will now be acting as interim Prime Minister. And I will have you all know, because this government will _not _be built on secrets, that Eric Finch has been a party member for over 20 years. Why would you ever trust a party member to lead your new government? And the answer to that is simple. I trust him. And V trusted me.

Please take note: I will not be accepting any political office. I am acting only as the voice of our revolution. Eric Finch has also given me permission to begin what we are calling the ECD, or England Cultural Department. It will be my duty to see to it that we once again become a cultural landmark. Nothing will be blacklisted every again. Feel free to read, listen to, and enjoy anything currently blacklisted.

On that note, please feel free to stay out as late as you wish. There is no longer a curfew; however, do not mistake this as an invitation to commit crime and violence. That is no way to honor the revolution that V gave to us. Please also be aware: although we are no longer under Norsefire control, the Ear, The Eye, and the Finger are still very active. We are working as quickly as we can to remedy this situation. I will personally bring you updates as they are delivered to me. The BTN will be our way of communication; you no longer have to fear that they are reporting lies. Anything said on this network is nothing but the truth.

London, we have achieved much, but there is still more to do. Thank you, and good night."

The red lights flicked off, and people in the studio began to applaud and cheer. Evey blushed and stood, happy to finally be out off of the uncomfortable stool and out of the hot lights. As she walked off the set, she received a lot of congratulations, smiles, and pats on the back. Finch was especially pleased, giving her one of the first genuine smiles of his that she had ever seen. "You were brilliant, Evey. And we used Sutler's old emergency system, so you reached all of London." Finch said, being at least the fifth person to pat her on the back.

"Thank you, Eric. I was so nervous; I thought for sure I was going to stutter." Evey admitted with a small laugh.

" It was truly brilliant, Evey. V would have been so proud of you." Eric concluded, giving Evey a small, friendly hug. Evey returned it, his statement meaning more to her than he could possibly know.

By the time Evey had returned to her flight, it was nearly midnight. She was exhausted, having rushed off early to rehearse her address to London, begin her work as the new head of the ECD, and then produce the address itself. Finch had told her later in the day that the reception of her speech was remarkably positive, and people seemed eager to have a say in their new government. Evey was relieved to hear this wonderful news, and thanked him profusely for all of his help.

She had stopped to grab the post, and now sat down on her small couch to peruse what she had received. There were three envelopes and a magazine, which Evey quickly discarded. Two of the three envelopes were bills, which she would see to in the morning. The third, however, quickly piqued her interest. It was clearly formal stationary, with neat, precise handwriting on the front. It looked oddly familiar, and although she knew it wasn't V's, Evey had to admit that she had been hoping it was. Grabbing a butter knife from a kitchen drawer, she sliced the envelope open and retrieved the letter:

_Dear Evey, _

_I know that you will be quick shocked to hear from me, given the current circumstances. I wish to explain everything to you, but it must be done in person. I would be delighted if you joined me and my partner, Philip for dinner on November the seventeenth at sixth o'clock. There is so very much to tell you. The return address is the correct address for the new estate. _

_Sincerely, _

_Gordon Deitrich _

It was a good thing that Evey was sitting down; otherwise, she certainly would have collapsed. _Gordon…? But how?_ She thought to herself. She read the letter again and again, wanting to believe that it was real, but knowing that it might not be. Fate was a cruel mistress; she knew that all too well. Her beloved V was gone, as she had believed Gordon to be. Was it possible that Gordon actually _was _alive? It hurt her to realize that that would in fact mean that V was lying, the night of her release. But if this was real, she was sure that there would be a reason. She knew that if this wasn't some cruel joke, Gordon really would explain everything to her.

* * *

The night of the seventeenth arrived painstakingly slow. Evey had thrown herself into her work, trying to ignore the anxiety and excitement that was building up inside of her. She finally left her office at five o'clock, practically running out of the new ECD building. Her car hummed to life and her anticipation began to build. In an hour, she would either be reunited with a dear friend, or crushed horribly, once again.

Evey shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself. That was clearly Gordon's handwriting; she remembered it from her days at the BTN. She had to think optimistically. It was going to be a wonderful evening; a reunion with her friend, and the meeting of his new paramour. _This _certainly excited Evey. She was reminded immediately of her old self, and how she would have devoured this sort of gossip before she met V.

Her breath caught at the thought of him, and Evey had to remind herself to breathe, and force herself not to cry. "Hold yourself together Evey. Just a few more blocks, and you'll be getting ready to go meet Gordon, a walking dead man." She said aloud. Was it selfish, she wondered, to wish that it was V who was the walking dead man, and not Gordon? She instantly banished the thought, mentally kicking herself for thinking such horrible things. But deep down, she knew that she couldn't stop what her heart was feeling, although her brain new that it was wrong.

Feeling utterly overwhelmed, Evey settled on a simple green blouse and a black pair of slacks. It was casual, compared to her work attire, but still suggested some form of formality. Her hair was beginning to grow out, making it completely un-agreeable to anything Evey tried to do to it. In exasperation, Evey decided it best to just leave it. She was already running late as it was. So with a final dash of mascara and lipstick, Evey grabbed her purse and coat and ran out the door.

Glancing up from the letter, Evey checked for what must have been the fifth time to ensure that the address was correct. It was unmistakably the right address, but Evey found the motion of glancing up and down comforting to her frayed nerves. The house itself was beautiful; it was a sprawling estate with lavish gardens. It was out of town just enough to allow for such a wonderful lawn, and Evey almost laughed when she compared this grandiose mansion with her own, humble flat. She almost allowed herself to compare it to the Shadow Gallery, but she knew she must not, for fear of bringing fresh tears to her eyes.

The windows were all lit up, giving the mansion an air of warmth and hospitality. Evey saw the silhouette of a man approach the window and then recede once again. It was presumably Gordon, checking to see if his guest had yet arrived. She was about ten minutes late, thanks to getting lost and her misadventures with her uncooperative hair. Finally, Evey could not longer stand the tension building inside of her, and with as much composure as she could muster, she opened her car door and approached the front door.

Gordon had of course seen her parked out front for several minutes. He had expected nothing less; he had briefly considered that she might not show up at all. But once he saw her open the door and begin the journey to the house, he quickly motioned to Philip. Philip came over at once, and gave Gordon a reassuring smile. The stood in front of the door, and once they heard the tentative knock, the waited just a few seconds and then opened the door in a flourish.

"Evey! I'm so glad you could make it!" Gordon exclaimed joyfully. And he truly, truly was. A genuine smile lit up Evey's face, and she let out a laugh of disbelief before she embraced Gordon. "Oh Gordon, you have no idea how wonderful it is to see you again!" Evey laughed. A few tears were in her eyes, but they were tears of joy, so she let them escape. Evey politely stepped out of the hug before addressing Philip:

"And this must be the mysterious Philip I have heard _nothing_ about. It's a pleasure to meet you," Evey said cordially as she took his hand in a firm grip.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Hammond."

"Oh please, call me Evey. Tell me, you look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" Evey asked, raising her eyebrows as if to more closely inspect him.

"Evey, you might recognize him because he used to work for the BTN. He was one of the anchors on the morning news program." Gordon supplied.

"Yes, I was. That was how Gordon and I met. But I quit a year ago. After The Old Bailey was destroyed, I couldn't stand to sit there and feed the English people more lies," A hint of anger entered his voice, but vanished just as quickly as he added, "But it gave me a chance to meet the charming Mr. Deitrich, so I have no regrets." Evey smiled widely, taking an instant liking to this charismatic man that Gordon was seeing. They both welcomed her into their home, taking her jacket and giving her the grand tour. Halfway through the tour, Philip made his exit to go check on dinner.

"Gordon, your home is absolutely gorgeous, inside and out. And Philip is quite the dashing chap, if I might add." Evey said with a smile.

"Thank you Evey, I truly appreciate both of the compliments. Now, I think dinner will be ready shortly, and there is much that we must discuss." Gordon led Evey back through the endless maze of hallways back to the dining room, where Philip was just placing a lovely roast chicken on the center of the table. Gordon pulled out a chair for Evey while Philip poured them each a glass of red wine to go with the chicken. Along with the chicken, Evey also took noticed of the fine French bread, steaming pasta, and grilled vegetables that sat on the table.

"Philip, this looks wonderful. Did you prepare this all by yourself?" Evey wondered as both men took their own seats and began to serve and pass the dishes of food. Philip laughed, "Thank you, Evey. And yes, I prepared this myself. For all his charm, Gordon is absolutely useless in the kitchen. In my opinion, anyway. But I suppose he did a lovely job with the place settings." He gave Gordon a wink, who was currently rolling his eyes.

"Yes, I don't know _how _I managed to survive all these years without you and your cooking," Gordon quipped.

The two bantered on for a few more minutes, and Evey felt a weight that had been crushing her being lifted away. It was the weight of loneliness that had been crushing her. She laughed as they bickered lovingly, sampling Philip's cooking as she did. It had all been cooked to perfection, and although he could hold his own, Evey agreed that Philip was far superior when it came to cooking. However, Philip was still second best when it came to cooking, in her mind. No one could ever compete with V's cooking. It was an art, for him that he had been practicing for over twenty years.

The weight was immediately slammed back on top of her, making it hard for her to breathe. It was a terrible idea to think of him here, and now. She had been forcing any thought of him from her mind since she had arrived, knowing full well the effects these thoughts had on her. To disguise the building swell of emotion, Evey took a swig of wine and another succulent bite of chicken before asking Gordon what exactly they had to discuss in order to get her mind off of the bittersweet subject of V.

"Ahh, yes. Perhaps we should finish our meal and then we can adjourn to the study for some brandy. And I think Philip prepared a chocolate cake for desert." Gordon replied, dabbing his face with a napkin. They all ate quickly with small talk interspersed between bites of food and sips of wine. Once they had all finished, and Philip insisted that Evey not lift a finger and try to help him, dinner had been cleared away and Gordon led Evey into his study.

The walls were lined with books, and once again Evey couldn't help but draw parallels to the Gallery. It was impressive, but certainly nowhere near as impressive as V's collection. But the room itself was beautiful, to match the rest of the house. The dark, mahogany desk was littered with papers and even featured the bust of Shakespeare, earning another sharp intake of breath from Evey. A fire was roaring in the fireplace, giving the room a cozy warmth. It reminded her of a movie she had seen once, long ago as a child. She sat politely on the study's leather couch while Philip opted for the chair behind the desk. Gordon stood while he poured everyone a drink.

Handing Evey hers, Gordon sat next to her on the couch. Her eyes bored holes into his as she stared expectantly at the man she had believed to be dead. Gordon knew there was no use in delaying the inevitable, so he began:

"Evey, the night the my home was raided, it really was a raid. I had never been more terrified in my life. But I had known that they would come for me, and you as well. And so did your friend V. He had come to me just before I had gone off to bed, and warned me of Norsefire's intentions. We had spoken only once before, when you had first come to me. I had assured him that I would keep you safe. But he told me that if I wanted to live, that I would have to do exactly as he said. And I did.

V told me to first use what little time I had left to transfer all of my savings into an offshore account. This was the easy part. He then told me that there was nothing he could do to stop the men from taking me, but that I should remain strong while I was in their custody. He told me that after he had secured you, he would find me.

I had been forced into a panel van by several guards. Creedy was there, as you know, but he had left in a separate car. We had just begun to drive when there was a large bump in the road. The guards stopped, and the driver got out to ensure that everything was alright. A few minutes later, a man got in. But it wasn't the guard. He was dressed in all black, with a ski mask pulled over his face. Before any of the other guards noticed, he sped out. By now, the men guarding me realized that something was very wrong. They tried to stop V, but before they could, V caused a minor car crash. The men were dazed; as was I. But V was not, and he quickly pulled me out of the wreckage and handed me a set of keys.

He told me to run down the road, and he gave me a set of instructions to find a car. Once I found the car, I was to find Philip and leave London for a few days while things settled down. But we didn't come back. Using my newly transferred funds, we bought this estate and have been living under assumed names. We have had to be incredibly careful, since we are both well known faces. Philip does most of the shopping, since people don't think he is dead, but Norsefire still held a grudge against him for leaving the BTN. It has been difficult, being a dead man, but once I knew that Norsefire was taken down, I knew that I should tell you." His last sentence was only partially true, but he could never reveal this.

Gordon fell silent as Evey absorbed all of this new information. Philip had been watching her reaction throughout the whole story carefully, although he couldn't read her facial expressions and body language nearly as well as he could with Gordon's. But Evey could only think of one thing.

"He said you were dead. V told me that you had been killed. He lied to me. V lied." Evey whispered, panic edging its way into her voice. She remembered his last words, _I have told you nothing but truth._ Clearly, that was not true.

"Evey, he hated to do it, let me assure you. But it was a lie that saved my life. It has allowed me to be with the man that I love. Can you blame him for wanting to protect a friend? He was so thankful that I had taken care of you when you had left him. He wanted to be sure that I could be taken care of as well. Do not think any less of him because of what I have told you." Gordon pleaded. It was heartbreaking to see her, still grieving, beginning to mentally question V.

But Gordon was right. Evey knew this. V was a man of his word, and he had saved one of her closest friends and had given him a new life. She could not blame him for lying. She could not hold this against him, especially now that he was gone. "You're right Gordon. I'm sorry. It's just been an emotional few weeks for me, and I'm still trying to maintain my foothold."

Gordon nodded in understanding. He finished his drink and rose to refill it, also grabbing Philip's empty glass along the way. Evey hadn't touched hers; she still had to drive home that night, and she wasn't a big drinker in the first place. But now, she was beginning to have an idea.

"Gordon?"

"Yes, Evey?"

"Did you know, Eric Finch is looking for a new director of the BTN. You know, now that it's no longer corrupt and under Norsefire's thumb. Finch would be delighted to have someone that we actually trust running it…" Evey trailed off, leaving Gordon to stare at her, wide eyed.

"Evey, I don't think it would be that simple. I'm supposed to be dead. I don't think heading up a media outlet would exactly help me maintain my façade." Gordon said slowly. Philip, however, was very interested in this idea. "Do you really believe that Finch would let Gordon head up the BTN?" He stared wide eyed at Evey.

"Of course I do. And now, you two wouldn't have to hide your relationship. Philip, you could be an anchor again." Evey suggested.

"Gordon, if you were to take this position, you would be able to prevent any lies that could be aired. You would be able to allow the truth to reach the viewers, not lies." Philip walked around the desk to put a hand on Gordon's shoulder. Evey had not expected this reaction from Philip, and she had expected Gordon to be more excited at the chance of leading an entire media outlet. She thought maybe she could sweeten the deal a little more.

"As the head of the BTN, you would be able to have your show again. Without any filters or censors. Nobody to answer to, except yourself. This is only an idea, Gordon. I wasn't expecting an answer tonight. But think about it. Let me know in the coming days if it's something you want to consider, and we can set up a meeting with Eric. I just wanted to put it on the table. I want people that I trust to be around me. People V trusted."

"I will certainly consider this offer. It's a lot to think about, but I will have an answer for you in the coming days." Gordon agreed. With that, Evey glanced at the clock and discovered that it was quite late.

"I had no idea it had gotten so late! I really should be going, I have a busy day tomorrow. Gordon, Philip, thank you so very much for your hospitality, and the delicious meal. Philip, it was wonderful to meet you." She said, extending her hand once more to Philip. He planted a gentle kiss on her knuckles and smiled warmly at her. "The pleasure was entirely mine, Evey. You are welcome here any time."

Evey turned to Gordon with a warm smile, which he returned in kind. She gave him another hug, "Oh Gordon. You have no idea of the weight just seeing you has lifted off of me. I'm so happy you're alive. I guess I hadn't realized how lonely I have been for the last few months." Gordon hugged her back, and then held her at arm's length.

"Evey I'm just glad to see that you are well. And I am, admittedly, quite pleased with being alive as well," he quipped. "Please, let's not wait so long to get together the next time. I will have an answer for you soon regarding the position at the BTN. Thank you for your lovely company this evening."

With all of the goodbyes out of the way, Gordon helped her into her coat and as a proper gentleman would, saw her out to her car. She watched until he had returned into the warm light of his house before she started her car and drove off, feeling lighter than she had in weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

**So this one is pretty short, but I hope you enjoy all the angsty goodness! **

Chapter 4

It had been an incredibly stressful day for Evey Hammond as the new director for the ECD, or the England Cultural Department. She had gone in to her office earlier than usual to catch up on some work she had put off the night before, and had barely managed to catch up before she was ushered off to meeting after meeting with official after official. Finch had dropped in that afternoon with news regarding rebel activity, which only added to Evey's stress level. She faced a mountain of paperwork in need of reading, signing, and authorizing.

But it was worth it. All of it was worth it, for England and for him. For V. That was what kept her going on her most hectic days, today included.

Now, however, Evey was exhausted. Her high heels clicked on the pavement of the parking lot, reminding her of how terribly her feet ached from a day of walking, standing, and being busy in general. Placing her briefcase on top of her small car, Evey was able to more easily unlock and open the driver's side door and slip inside. She sat there for a moment, exhaustion threatening to pull her under. But she remembered how she had always been told to get in your car and go, not just sit there, lest you invite an attacker. So she made sure that she had everything put into proper place in her vehicle and turned the key. The small sedan hummed to life as she backed slowly out of the empty parking lot. She had been the last person to leave that night, staying later than even the cleaning crew. In these situations, sometimes Evey enjoyed being alone. She had no interruptions, and she could do as she pleased. Yes, she thought, loneliness was a terrible thing. But not being alone. Sometimes, that was exactly what she needed.

Only she wasn't alone; not really. She had a set of protective eyes watching over her, protecting her, all from behind the familiar face of Guy Fawkes. It had been over two months since the fifth, and V had healed rather well from his injuries. His days were now spent in a small bunker in the underground tunnels that he had set up in case the Gallery could no longer be occupied. In it, he had a store of spare clothing, knives, and food. There was a small kitchenette and a bed, but that was all. It was meant as a temporary living arrangement, and V didn't know how much longer he would stay there. He was not yet willing to go back to the shadow gallery, in case Evey was still visiting. And here she was now, leaving her new government department, high heels clacking slowly on pavement. He watched her as she got into her car and drove off.

He would admit that much of his time was now spent watching Evey Hammond, the woman he was in love with. He vowed to be her protector; and protector he would be. He would watch over her comings and goings, to ensure that nothing bad would happen to her. But he also watched her to see how she was coping with leading the revolution. V was filled with immeasurable amount of pride whenever he saw this strong, capable woman. She had gone through so much, and was still able to stand firm and guide these people in this difficult time of change.

However, there were moments when Evey Hammond would let down her barriers and let pure, unfiltered emotion run out of her. He had seen the cracks in her hard, determined shell. She may wear them proudly as bags under eyes, more prominent cheek bones, and a harsh, unwavering stare. But V knew that those were also the chinks in her armor. Those same things that she thought defined her strength, were also signs of her weakness.

V ran gracefully atop the roofs of London along a route he already had memorized. He perched atop a ledge, next to a gargoyle, that overlooked Evey's flat. It looks as though he had beaten her home. He watched her silently and unmoving, as if he were just as much of a statue as the gargoyle.

Evey was currently trying to manage both her briefcase and her keys. With his superior hearing, V could hear her mumbling, even from this distance. She was frustrated, he could tell. Her exhausted fingers just weren't cooperating as she tried unsuccessfully to grab the key to her flat. She tried again, only this time, her briefcase had lost its tentative balance on her arms. V watched the briefcase fall as if in slow motion. Once it hit the cold, unforgiving London streets, papers flew everywhere. Some of the documents even had the nerve to land in the gutter, where they would be damaged by the stagnant water that remained in them.

A flash of anger crossed Evey's face, and he recognized the determined, fearless woman who had walked out of his life months ago and who he had seen address the people of London more recently. But this ferocity was gone in an instant, and was soon replaced with defeat. A single sob escaped her delicate lips before she sank to the ground. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as Evey's shaking hands gathered up the papers that had been strewn so rudely along the street. The gentleman in V wanted to assist the lady, but he knew better. But oh, how he wanted to help her. As she began to stack everything back into her briefcase, V saw her hand shake harder, and he braced himself for the sob that came next. It was quickly followed by another, and another before Evey uttered one of the most painful things he had ever heard;

"I miss you, V."

With her voice stained with tears, it came out weak and strangled. It would have been less painful had she approached him and stabbed him with one of his daggers. He heart wrenched as he watched the woman he loved cry. And it was his own doing. It was his own damn choice that was causing her this suffering.

He could end it all, right now. In one swift motion, he could literally swoop back into her life and end her anguish. For the briefest moment, he almost gave in. He felt his muscles tense as they prepared to make their descent. But he restrained himself; and it took all of his strength to just sit by and watch while she suffered by his own hand.

And it had happened before. While he had imprisoned her, he had been the one to deal out the most horrific punishments and brutalities. He had caused her such suffering, and everyday he had to remind himself what he was really accomplishing. He had to remind himself that the ends justified the means. He was freeing her from fear, and giving her a new life.

But now? Did the ends justify the means? He wasn't so sure. He had his vendetta, and the revolution had begun. How could this suffering benefit her?

V knew why he was putting the both of them through such agony. He did not want to influence her, or drag her back to the shadows. She had to have a new life in the light of New London. It was a sacrifice he was making for the both of them.

But as he watched her try to remain strong, as he watched her crumble and weep on the sidewalk, he had to remind himself. And all he could do was suffer with her and hope that one day, she no longer would.

As V rose, he felt a hot tear roll down his mottled cheek.

**A/N**

**So there you are and there you have it. I apologize, sometimes you just need to get a little angst out of your system. But I wanted to let all of you know that things start to pick up in the next chapter. Also, I am trying desperately to get as much of this as I can before school starts. I have a hectic year ahead of me, (AP classes, sports, horses...all that craziness!) So help a sister out, and keep me motivated! I don't want to leave this unfinished, I have such a lovely plan for it! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Here you are, chapter 5 :) (it's a long one!)**

Chapter 5

Soon, V was growing restless from weeks of having nothing to do. Certainly, he had his mornings and evenings, when he ensured that Evey arrived safely to and from her workplace. But his days were filled with nothing. Had he been in the Gallery, at least he could have immersed himself in his library, or perhaps composed some music on the piano. He had endless entertainments down in the Gallery.

But he was still unsure of Evey's movements in the Gallery. He was ninety percent certain that she did not visit the Gallery anymore, a thought that both relieved and saddened him. But he wanted to be one hundred percent certain before he went down to his old home. V decided that he would give it one more week before he would go down to the Shadow Gallery and investigate whether or not he could stay there.

Yet the problem of boredom remained. He had procured a sketchbook from a local shop, late one night, and he was able to sketch and draw to fill the hours. But soon, the sketchbook itself was filled, and V was left to find a new activity. He often snatched newspapers from people's lawns to keep himself up to date on the news, and that was an enjoyable, yet mundane task.

However, V's spell of anxiety was broken one night while he was returning to his bunker after watching Evey return safely home. He had heard voices, and to avoid detection he rounded the corner into a nearby ally and melted into the black shadows. Two men were walking briskly down the street in trench coats. They were tall and appeared to be in decent physical condition. But more importantly, they appeared to running late.

"Johnny, do you have any idea where we're going?" the first man asked impatiently.

"Yeah I do, we'd a been there already if you'd just shut up about being lost!" The second man had a very strong Cockney accent, and appeared to be a few inches taller than his counterpart.

"Alright, take it easy. I just don't think it's a grand idea to show up late to the first meeting."

"Jesus, d'you want everyone in the whole bloody fucking neighborhood to know that we're fingermen? That we got a bloody meeting going down tonight? Why don't you just shut the hell up!" Johnny hissed. Now _this_ caught V's attention. They were fingermen, and they were heading to a meeting? Nothing good could come of this, and if it endangered the revolution or Evey herself, V would have to know about it and put a stop to it at once. Without a second thought, V began to follow the men as if he were nothing more than a shadow himself. The men had no idea that they were being followed; their argument was so loud that had V been walking normally, he doubted that they would have noticed. They really weren't the brightest of chaps, and they led V directly to the rebel meeting.

The two men approached an old warehouse that sat along the Thames and knocked on one of the side doors. They exchanged some words with a man behind the steel door, and then it creaked open to permit them entrance. V looked up, trying to find a place where he could begin surveillance. He noticed an open window on the side of the building, next to the fire escape. Seeing no other option besides knocking on the door, he made his way silently to the old stairwell.

The metal was old and rusted, and as V inspected it, he became less sure that it would hold his weight, let alone let him creep up it silently. Light poured out of the open window, but V could not yet hear anything except the dull din of useless conversation. The meeting had not yet begun, and he had a few more minutes to find another hiding place.

He stalked around the side of the building, looking high and low for a place that could both hide him and offer the best hearing and or seeing of this clandestine meeting. On the south side of the building, V was lucky enough to find a sturdier looking fire escape that led up to another open window. V shook his head at the sheer incompetence of these morons. In addition to revealing their identity on the way to the meeting, the members of this cell made no effort in hiding this meeting. Light poured out of the windows onto the street, and anyone walking by would find this suspicious, as the warehouse was supposed to be abandoned. At least they had made an effort to have the meeting late at night to prevent any major interruptions.

V waited for several more minutes in the shadows until he heard a man shout over the noise, "Alright, alright, settle down. We have a lot to discuss tonight." The clamor of voices immediately ceased, and V dared a peek through the window. The audience had their backs to him, while he could see the speaker clearly. He was a tall, broad man with a bushy mustache. His voice boomed with authority, though V certainly didn't feel he deserved it.

"Alright gentlemen, we have a lot to discuss. Since that bastard V got what he wanted, we have been criminalized by the very people we used to protect. He turned them against us." He began in a righteous tone of voice. V was sickened by the absurdity of this statement. These men did nothing but bring terror to the streets and people of London. He listened as the man continued:

"So now, I think it's high time that the people of London thanked us for our services. We should be the ones in charge, don't you chaps think? After years and years of serving the people, only to be cast as the villains, isn't it time we had our say? We've always drawn the short stick. That damned coward V was the real villain. He was nothing but a terrorist, a masked lunatic. And yet these lemmings worship him like a God. And they listen to his bitch Evey Hammond as if she were the queen of England." V's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Evey. And his blood boiled at how these spoke of her in such a vile manner. It was then, that someone from the audience rose, and spoke up. He recognized the voice, the Cockney accent giving him away as the man who had alerted him of the meeting.

"And how do you suppose we go about doing this? You said so yourself that they think we're the villains and the Hammond girl is a bloody saint!" He spat. The man on stage gave him an icy glare, which immediately caused Johnny to slide back meekly into his seat.

"I was getting to that, if you hadn't interrupted me. The answer to that is simple. We need to gain some leverage over our 'Prime Minister Finch' and the people of London. We need to take out their precious 'Princess of the Revolution'. We're going to capture her, use her as our bargaining chip, and then we'll dispose of her once we get what we want. Are there any questions before we begin going over logistics?"

Whatever the men's questions were, they fell on V's deaf ears. He was enraged. It took every ounce of his willpower to not leap through the window and kill every last bastard in the building. But V knew that he was vastly outnumbered, more so then when he went to seek out Creedy. No, he would come at them in a far more sinister manner. They would pay dearly for the mere idea of harming his beloved. They would suffer; V would see to that personally.

With a flourish of his cape, V leapt from the fire escape, landing easily on the sidewalk below. For this sort of plan, he would need far more than knives. He would need all of his vast resources: his computer system, his store of weaponry. He would need to regain some of his physical strength lost while in recovery with vigorous training. And he felt a vicious sneer creep onto his marred lips as he thought of the last thing he would need. Explosives. And plenty of them.

And for these things, V would need to go to the Shadow Gallery.

* * *

The Gallery was pitch black when he entered. He realized with a slight smile that the last time Evey had been here, she had had the common courtesy to switch off the lights. But the smile faded as he turned on the lights, and he realized that his assumption that Evey had not returned was correct. The roses in Valerie's shrine had wilted and petals littered the floor. A fine layer of dust could be found on most of his belongings. But V had no time to worry about the state of his humble abode. Not while there was a plot to end Evey's life in the making.

V mentally prepared all that he would need to do in order to take down the cell that was so disgustingly trying to end Evey's life. There would be no mercy on his part. Anyone involved in this cell's making would have to die; punishment to fit the crime.

He knew that his plan would have to be executed within the coming weeks, since he also knew that that was the same timeframe that the rebels were running under. He chastised himself for not listening further to give himself a more exact date or perhaps even how they intended to do it. But his anger ran so deep, that had he heard the date, he knew he might not have been able to resist going into the building and slitting every last person's throat.

It felt good to be back in the comfort and security of his home. And it felt even better to have a new sense of purpose driving him. A new vendetta, against those bent on harming this revolution and his Evey. Yes, he wasn't lying when he had said that he enjoyed the routines of everyday life, in his address to London, although his routines varied greatly from those of the citizens he had helped liberate. And one of those routines was to listen to music while he threw himself into his work. After depositing his cape and hat onto the coat rack by the door, V approached the Wurlitzer. He had several songs in mind that would put him in the ideal state of mind to begin assembling explosive devices and prepare physically in the training room.

He was puzzled to find a piece of his personal stationary left sitting on top of the dusty glass. Curious, he picked up the piece of paper. His heart begin to beat rapidly once he realized that it was a letter, from none other than Evey Hammond. He began to read:

_My Dearest V, _

_I know that you will never read these words, but it comforts me to write them none the less. It was nearly two hours ago that you gave your life for your revolution. The pain of losing you is almost indescribable. My heart feels as though it is being ripped in half. I will never stop missing you. But more importantly, I will never stop loving you. I don't know when I realized it, but I regret how long it took me to find out. Death is interesting in that respect. It makes you realize your regrets, after it's too late. So I'm left to wonder what might have happened had I realized this sooner. Would you still be here? Would you have ever made that fateful deal with Creedy? Would we have watched London rise, together?_

_But I'm not writing you to ask "what if". I want you to know, that while I don't agree with you, I understand why you made the choices you did. Why you felt that you had no place in the world that was about to take flight. Revenge can only spark a revolution; it cannot lead it. I realize that. I respect and admire that. But you couldn't have been more wrong. Of course you have a tree waiting for you. It is here, with me. I wasn't lying when I said that you were one of the most important things that has ever happened to me. You made me who I am today. I will always admire your strength, your courage, and your genius. I will always remember your idea, but more importantly I will always remember you, the man. I love you, V. With all of my heart. If I could tell you just one more thing, that would be it. I'm sorry it took me this long to realize. _

_So although you will not be here to see me do it, I will continue your revolution in a way I hope you see fit. I will see to it that your sacrifices were not in vain. You will have your revolution, and the people will always remember you. The man. The man that I love. _

_Yours, _

_Evey_

V's hands shook as he read the letter again. It said so many things that he had never dreamed of hearing, especially from her. It claimed that she loved him. That she understood his reasoning for dying. That she even _respected_ the choice he made. It was so completely overwhelming, that V momentarily forgot his new mission and collapsed onto his chaise lounge. It was a short, simple letter, but it was so wrought with emotion, that it could have been pages long. V also took note at how wrinkled the paper was, and how the ink ran in spots. Tears. These were her tears staining the page.

V's heart nearly broke in half as his realized this; picturing this woman sitting at his large desk, crying as she wrote out this letter. He could imagine her hand shaking, and how every few minutes she would have to pause and try and compose herself in order to continue. He rose and walked to the study, where she had sat months ago, putting words to paper that would change everything. He sat in the chair where she had, and read the letter once more.

Could this be true? Did she really love him? Or perhaps, was this just her fresh grief playing out on the page before him. But she had kissed him, had she not? That night on the platform? V had tried desperately to block that memory from his mind, although it was quite possibly the most wonderful memory he had. He couldn't bear to think about how he had walked away from her that night, knowing that he had to, but also realizing what could have been.

It was interesting, he thought, that after twenty long years of cold calculation and planning, his only hesitation came from a small girl that he had kidnapped and then tortured. He had almost become optimistic, when she first came to him, but once again the cynical voice in his head reminded him that he was a monster beneath the mask. And then of course, she had as well.

Despite that though, she had come back to him. That had to count for something. After everything he had put her through, she had come back. So was it possible that those fine words written before him were true? He knew that Evey would not lie, but it seemed likely that she could be overwhelmed with grief. Even if she really didn't love him, her grief was still evident. She was still hurting, and missing him, regardless of her true feelings.

He had to end this. He couldn't stand making her suffer another second. His resolve crumbled, and he finally realized that he had to reveal himself to her.

The plot against her life had already made him consider doing so, so that he could better protect her. Maybe even convince her to stay in the Gallery to ensure her safety while he hunted those responsible. He was already walking that fine line, swaying back and forth, and the discovery of this letter finally pushed him over the edge.

Without anymore hesitation, he strode out of the room with a new purpose. Donning his hat and cape, V headed out into the late London night, letter in hand.

* * *

Unlike the one he had encountered earlier that night, V was pleased to know that the fire escape to Evey's flat was quite sturdy and secure. It made his assent far easier, although he knew that for this, he would have preformed any physical feat, including scaling the side of a building.

Once he reached her window, V had one last thought of hesitation. Should he really do this to her? Should he really drag her back down into the shadows with him? He could just let her get on with her life, and let time heal her grieving heart. But that thought quickly vanished as V easily opened the window. He was surprised and a little disappointed that it was unlocked; he would have to berate Evey for this later.

V froze once he entered Evey's bedroom. She was sleeping peacefully, one arm tucked tightly underneath her while the other reached out across the other side of the bed. Her breaths were even and quiet, and V's gaze was transfixed on her as he watched the rise and fall of the blankets around her.

She was so beautiful when she slept. There wasn't a worry on her face; she looked completely at ease. The weight of leading a revolution couldn't find her in her sleep. Suddenly, Evey's steady breath faltered for a moment while she flopped over onto her other side and let out a low sigh. It was then that V noticed it. In any other situation, he would have found it amusing, endearing even. He might have found it deep in his heart to be humbling. But in this moment, it was positively heartbreaking.

When she had changed positions, the covers had fallen off of her shoulders, revealing some very familiar looking fabric. It took V only a second to realize that she was wearing one of his shirts. His breath faltered as he watched her subconsciously rub her cheek gently on the sleeve, as if reminding herself that she still had it on. Did she really miss him this much? Was she still grieving to the point of holding onto his clothing, as if it was he himself? V was compelled to wake her, to let her know that it was alright. That he was there, and she didn't have to shed another tear in his name. He could not allow any more suffering to befall this wonderful woman.

But she needed her sleep. The days at her new department were slowly dragging later and later into the evening, until lately she was the last person to leave. This job kept her very busy, along with her constant communication with Finch regarding the rebuilding of England and making addresses to the people. She had devoted herself completely to her work, seeing to it that V's work was completed to satisfaction.

With silent footsteps, V stepped forward to complete his mission. He gingerly placed the letter onto Evey's nightstand, next to her alarm clock. By morning, Evey would know the truth. She would know that the masked revolutionary was still very much alive, and had been hiding from her. He had no doubt that she would come find him.

So for now, he let her have her much needed rest. And he would return to the Shadow Gallery, where preparations of his own were to be made.

* * *

A shrill beeping roused Evey from her surprisingly deep sleep. Despite being at work far too late, Evey woke feeling refreshed and energized. It had been months since she had had such a good night's sleep. Rolling over, Evey switched off the alarm, which now read 6:01 AM, but froze once she noticed a piece of paper lying patiently next to her clock. Evey recognized it instantly.

It was the letter she had written for V on the fifth. It was only months ago, but to her the grief was still fresh enough that it could have been days ago. But what was it doing here, on her nightstand? She had left it on the Wurlitzer that night, not knowing what else to do. She was certain that no one else had entered the Gallery; no one else even knew of its existence. The only person who could have found this letter had been dead for months.

Right?

Evey immediately flipped the letter over in her hands, searching to see if it had been altered in any way. There was no other handwriting to be found, and nothing had been changed in hers. The page hadn't even been folded. For a brief second, Evey considered the fact that she could just be dreaming. She looked at her hands, and then pinched herself hard on the thigh. It stung, telling Evey just what she had feared and admittedly hoped for: she was very much awake.

Without another thought, Evey threw the covers off of herself and quickly got dressed. She just tossed on a cardigan and a pair of jeans, deciding on whatever was closest and looked and smelled clean. As she walked out the door, she was already dialing the ECD's secretary Melinda. She picked up on the first ring.

"Thank you for calling the ECD, how may I help you?" Melinda was bright and chipper as she answered the phone. It didn't come as a surprise to Evey, who had grown accustomed to the young girl's eager and friendly attitude.

"Hello, Melinda. It's me, Evey."

"Oh Miss Hammond! How are you this morning, is everything alright?"

"Oh I'm alright, thank you. I'm actually calling to let you know that I won't be able to make it in today. My aunt has all of a sudden gotten very ill, and she needs me to take care of her for the day while my uncle is out of town." Evey lied easily.

"How dreadful! I wish her a speedy recovery, Miss Hammond. The only thing on your schedule today was a video conference with some museum directors from France. Shall I call them to cancel?"

"Yes, thank you Melinda. If my schedule tomorrow permits it, you can reschedule it."

"Very good, Miss Hammond. I hope your aunt feels much better. Have a good day." The young assistant was nothing if not professional, Evey thought to herself. After another goodbye, she finally hung up. Evey had decided it best to walk to the entrance of the old tube tunnels, not wanting to park her car suspiciously on some side street where it might get ticketed or worse, investigated. Walking was the practical choice, but it also gave Evey a chance to think.

Deep down, Evey knew that there was no other explanation. V had to be alive, that was the only way that this letter made any sense. She clutched it in her hand, the letter very real, and assuring her that this was no dream. But it was hard for Evey to accept it. She had put his body onto the train; he had died in her arms! Although she wasn't a doctor, Evey felt rather certain that she could determine if someone was dead or alive, especially a person who was lying in her lap. But even the idea of him being alive wasn't as hard to accept as the idea of him hiding from her.

If he was alive, and she was growing more certain of that with every footstep, he had hidden from her. He had let her suffer for months, and grieve uncontrollably. Evey had lost count of how many times she had sat in her office at the ECD, wishing that V was there to give her some advice or at the very least a quote from Shakespeare. How could he do this to her?

A crushing thought passed through Evey's mind as she wondered if perhaps he had only said he loved her because he thought he was going to die. It had crossed her mind that now, things might have changed for him. He might have realized that he didn't truly love her. The idea of V not loving her back sent Evey into a momentary panic. She could hardly breathe, and she had to support herself against a wall. No, no, no. That wasn't right. She had to have faith. She absolutely had to have faith that it wasn't true, and that his declaration of love was true. She needed to have faith in V.

And he would explain everything to her once she found him. Taking a deep breath, Evey felt ridiculous for panicking, and mentally reminded herself to be the strong, determined woman that V had made her into. She pushed herself off of the wall and stalked off with confident steps in the direction of the Gallery.

* * *

V hadn't slept that night, being far too anxious and busy to even consider resting. The first thing V did when he left Evey's flat was head to the market. If Evey was coming, he would want to be sure that he welcomed her properly and prepared a meal that they could talk over. It was child's play to gather these supplies, and he felt no guilt over doing so. Although for the past 20 years, he always raided Sutler's personal stores or other Norsefire officials, he wasn't able to so anymore. But he reasoned that he had given these people their freedom; the least they could do in return was give him the supplies he needed to survive, albeit unknown.

He suspected that Evey might not be very interested in having breakfast with the discovery that he was alive, and also being told that rebels wanted her dead. He did prepare for breakfast, however, gathering supplies to make Evey's favorite "Eggy in a basket". For dinner, he decided to prepare Italian, something that he enjoyed cooking and she enjoyed eating.

After his detour to the market, V returned to the Gallery. Surveyed his home, he created a list of all that had to be done from months of abandonment. Everything would have to be dusted, the kitchen restocked, and Valerie's shrine to be maintained. Thankfully, since no one had taken up residence in the Gallery for these months during his absence, nothing was out of place and need organizing.

V began with dusting, moving much more quickly than the average human, but still doing a thorough job of it. The main rooms of the Gallery were completed in minutes. V also decided to take the liberty of putting fresh linens on Evey's bed, just to be thorough, he told himself.

After the dusting and changing of linens had been seen to, V decided to focus his attention next on Valerie's shrine. He first swept up the fallen petals and discarded them. Then, he gathered all of the wilted flowers and threw them away as well. After dusting all of her pictures, V walked down a long hallway toward one of his favorite places in the gallery, his underground garden.

During his dark days in Larkhill, one of his responsibilities as he grew stronger was to tend to the garden at the detention facility. It was his only respite for the horrors afflicted on him, but it also inspired a love for gardening. While it the gardens of Larkhill, he also had is first encounters with his infamous rose, the Scarlet Carson. The fact that such beauty could live in such a horrific place inspired him. He felt that it was a testament to strength and defiance. That was why he chose it to give to his victims; they may have been able to burn him, nearly kill him, make his life and Evey's life hell, but they would not crush his strength. Sometimes, V saw himself as the personification of the Scarlet Carson, although he hardly thought of himself as beautiful. But his ideas were, and that was close enough.

This room is where he grew the beautiful roses, in addition to fresh vegetables and fruit. Being underground had many advantages, and being able to control the "seasons" for the plants was one of them. V dreaded what he would find in this room, knowing that it hadn't received any of his doting and attention for months. He pushed open the door, and was pleased to discover that the room hadn't turned into the Amazon jungle. Things were overgrown, and the rose bushes required dead heading, while all of the plants had produce that needed to be harvested. But for now, V went and snipped off enough roses to fill Valerie's shrine properly. He would return once that was finished to harvest the fruits and vegetables and trim back all of the overgrowth.

It was with the greatest care that V arranged the roses into the vase under Valerie's picture. Once he finished, he bowed his head respectfully at the beautiful brunette. He owed so much of this to her, for writing the letter that would inspire his vendetta, give him the strength to continue, and later giving Evey that same strength.

Funny, V thought, how letters had a way of changing his life.

Glancing at a clock, V realized that Evey would be awake very soon, and heading towards the Gallery. He estimated that she would arrive at the Gallery in less than an hour. The anxiety began to build, and he concluded that some work in the garden and a warm shower would calm his nerves.

V was correct. After harvesting vegetables and trimming back their wild vines, his mind had honed in entirely at the task at hand. His frayed nerves were soothed, and after twenty minutes V had harvested all that he could and trimmed back all that he needed to. The kitchen was now stocked with lots of fresh produce.

To wash away the last remains of anxiety and the sweat and dirt he accumulated through gardening, V went into the gallery bathroom and started the water for a shower. While he waited for the water to warm up, V began the process of undressing. First came his gloves, which he placed on the counter. Next came the mask, followed by the wig, which he placed on their designated stand. Finally came his clothing, which V folded and placed on the counter next to the sink. He avoided the mirrors he had placed around the bathroom; he didn't want to remind himself of the monster that Evey was currently seeking out.

The trickling water and harsh bright light always provided V with an interesting viewing of his mottled flesh. The light accented the ridges the burns created, deepening their shadows, while the light also magnified and amplified its angry color. However, the water provided the only effect that V didn't despise. The small droplets of water made the skin sparkle, as if there were diamonds sprinkled over his skin.

V used special soap for burns that he had ordered for the last twenty years from a soap company in Switzerland. It promoted optimal moisturization and had soothing agents in it, and in V's personal experience he thought that it helped calm the angry coloration of his skin. Once he had scrubbed himself clean, he dried off and applied some special lotion, that he also ordered from the Swiss company. This also helped to keep the skin moisturized, and prevent some of the cracking that tended to happen with extreme exertion.

Dressing was an important task for V. It was imperative that his skin stay both concealed and well protected. His first layer was like a second skin; a form-fitting lyrca shirt and pair of trousers. It gave his sensitive skin the protection it needed while still allowing him to move comfortably. After that, came his regular clothing. The last step of his routine was the mask and wig, which V paid meticulous attention to.

The wig was combed first on its stand, and then once more once it was positioned on top of his head. And then came the mask, which he put on with great care to ensure that it would stay in place. After the mask and the wig came the gloves and the boots, and then he was ready.

Evey would be walking through the door to the Gallery at any moment. Any calm that the gardening and shower had brought him was now gone, and V was reduced to anxiously pacing the main room of the Gallery. He knew that he should occupy himself. He knew that he should look busy when she arrived. He knew lots of things.

And he certainly knew that the faint noise he was hearing were her approaching footsteps.

The sound froze him to the spot. He couldn't have moved even if he wanted to. So he just braced himself for what was about to happen.

Meanwhile, Evey herself was having the opposite issue. She was having trouble restraining herself; she had forced herself to walk instead of sprint her way to the Gallery. And once the door came into view, she lost all of her willpower and threw open the door.

And there he was, just standing in the Gallery, so still that it could have been a photograph. She could feel the weight and intensity of his gaze even through the mask and eye shields. The power of his stare nearly made her collapse, but she was able to hold her ground.

V was utterly paralyzed, as Evey appeared to be. Both just stared at the other, unsure of what to do or say. There really wasn't a protocol to base this sort of reunion on. V finally broke the silence.

"Hello Evey."

It was such a simple statement. It had been said countless times before, but never before had it been said with such raw emotion. It reminded him of the day that she had been released from his fake prison. At the time, emotions overwhelmed him, and his brain could only find the simplest of words. It was a shockingly similar situation.

Evey stared hard at him, and answered in equally brusque, simple terms, "You're alive!"

"Once again, your powers of observation serve you well." V forced.

That statement was all it took to break the dam and unleash Evey's flood of emotion. She took two powerful strides toward the paralyzed man, her face's lovely features twisting into a scowl. Her finger jabbed out accusingly as she screamed at him, "You _bastard_! I thought you were dead! How could you let me think you were dead? How could you _lie _to me, and _hide! _You're nothing but a bloody coward, you know that? How could you do this to me! You bastard!"

V had only seen her this upset once before, and it still unnerved him. He tried to calm her down, but to no avail.

"Evey, I…"

"No! You let me finish! I have been leading your revolution for months! Do you know how often I sit alone in my office, wishing that I could have your advice? God V, I just needed to talk to you. It could have been about anything! I didn't know if I would ever be able to break through the grief of losing you! I would lay down at night and just imagine waking up in the Gallery to the smells of you cooking. I've been a mess, V, a mess! How could you let me hurt like this? Why would you hide yourself from me, especially if you love me?" Evey's voice softened considerably with her last statement, but it was still sharp and biting. She was completely flustered; her face was burning and she could feel tears springing to her eyes. Biting them back, she asked again.

"Why, V? Why did you leave me?"

"Evey, you have to understand that every single day was torture. All I wanted was to be able to comfort and help you…"

"Then why didn't you?" Evey screamed, cutting him off.

"Evey please, I'm getting there. But had I given you my advice, I surely would have influenced your own choice, and thus the world. I do not want to influence this new world that the people, and you, are to be creating." He took a deep breath before continuing, "I had hoped that your grief would ease, and you would begin a new life. You would bask in the light of New London. I could not be the one to drag you back into the shadows. Not again."

V bowed his head, unable to look at Evey as this admission hit her. He could sense her anger flare up again, but it slowly abated. They stood like this for several minutes in silence. Suddenly, Evey choked out a strangled sob, and she began to shake. She was slowly collapsing, and before she could fall completely, V caught her, encircling her with his strong arms. They sank to the ground together, V gathering her up into his embrace while she clung to him as if for dear life, crying tears of both joy and pure emotional release.

* * *

It was a quiet day in the Shadow Gallery. Once Evey had finally calmed down, he had suggested they move to the couch and watch a movie. And one movie turned into two, and two quickly turned into four. They kept popping in discs, just happy to sit together and relish in each other's company. Evey sat next to V, just close enough so that their arms brushed occasionally, but not close enough to make him uncomfortable. It was happy, companionable silence that now filled the Gallery, not sterile, deafening silence.

It was also an unspoken agreement that for now, the letter was not to be discussed. They were far to relieved to be able to see each other again; they wouldn't ruin these first moments together with the possibility of awkward moments that the letter was sure to bring up.

Finally, after the fourth movie, V rose, saying that he was going to begin preparing dinner. Evey only nodded, and she sat silently on the couch while V busied himself in the kitchen. Soon the smells of garlic and tomato sauce filled the Shadow Gallery, along with the sounds of V clamoring away in the kitchen. He had even walked out of the kitchen at one point to turn on the Wurlitzer, which delighted Evey. She closed her eyes with a smile and rested her head on the arm of the couch. It was like nothing had ever changed.

She was being gently shaken away some minutes later, having dosed off with a happy grin on her face. V had found her this way, and his heart swelled when he saw her resting on his couch with a blissful smile on her face. But she needed to eat, so he would have to wake her, hoping that he would get to see that blissful face again someday.

* * *

"Evey, I have something important I must tell you, and I regret to inform you that the news I am about to deliver is not very pleasant." V began as Evey enjoyed his cooking. She sat across from him at the small kitchen table, and looked up with raised eyebrows as he spoke.

"What's wrong, V?" For another brief moment, Evey considered the idea that he realized that he didn't really mean his declaration of love. But she reminded herself that V was an honest man, and would not lie about such matters.

"Last night, I stumbled upon a secret meeting. Fingermen were gathering, and it appears that they have organized a rebel cell," He started.

"But that's something we expected. There are several major party members still missing, and Finch's intelligence has led us to that very conclusion." Evey stated, confused as to what had V so worried.

"That isn't what I find so concerning. While eavesdropping on their meeting, I discovered the target of their first attack."

"What are they going to do? Another bomb? Although I think you've already destroyed the most significant buildings in London." Evey quipped.

V rolled his eyes beneath the mask. Perhaps he had made this woman _too_ fearless.

"Evey, you are the target."

Evey choked on the sip of water she was taking. She glanced up at him, waiting for him to laugh and dismiss his statement. But he didn't, and he watched her reaction curiously, the mask tilted ever so slightly to indicate his interest.

"Beg your pardon?"

"You, my dear, are the first target of the rebel cell. I found out that they wish to kidnap you, use you against Prime Minister Finch, and then kill you." V knew it would have been pointless to beat around the bush with her, and especially about this.

"You can't be serious. How do they think they're going to do it?"

"They aren't. They will be put to a stop before they can even begin, let me assure you. I will see to it personally."

Evey shouldn't have been surprised. She was now the "Princess of the Revolution", and she had been V's accomplice. That certainly made her an extremely valuable target to anyone who wanted to derail the revolution. But learning that someone wanted her dead still left Evey speechless. And then his final statement, of taking care of the cell personally, could only mean one thing.

"You'll be careful." It was supposed to be a request, but they way it was stated made it more of a demand.

"My dear Evey, that is something that I should be asking of you." V responded gently. He rose from his seat to take her plate, and he placed it in the sink. Evey also stood and stretched, yawning as she did so. It had gotten late, as they had talked well into the evening about the progress of the revolution and Evey's work with the ECD. V had politely suggested that he tell her the story of how he survived another day.

"Perhaps I should escort you home, it is late and you need your rest." V suggested. He watched as Evey nodded and muttered an "Alright" before venturing off to find her shoes. A few minutes later, she returned victorious, and with another yawn, she walked to the coat rack to grab her jacket. V had by now donned his hat and cape, and waited patiently for Evey to finish gathering her things.

Finally she was ready, and she smiled gently at him as he held the door open for her. They walked in companionable silence through the underground, until they reached the station nearest Evey's flat. Once V was sure the coast was clear, he and Evey lurked through the shadows until she reached her building. She fetched her keys from her bag and turned to face V.

"Thank you for dinner, V, and escorting me home safely."

"It was entirely my pleasure Evey, I would be delighted to do so anytime."

She smiled, "Good, because I'll be down again soon. Don't think you can hide from me anymore."

Behind the mask, V returned the smile. "Oh my dear, I wouldn't dream of it," His tone turned more serious. "But please Evey, be careful. The threat against you is very real, although it will be short lived."

Evey nodded, adding, "You too, V. I couldn't lose you again." And with those final words, Evey embraced V tightly. V was shocked at first, but quickly recovered and wound his arms around her. And Evey Hammond felt whole for the first time since the night he was thought to have died.

**A/N**

**Whew. So, that was definitely _a lot_ longer than I had anticipated, but I think for the most part it turned out well. I considered cutting it in half, but I really couldn't find a good place to do it. Oh well, it's all the same in the end. The planning for this is going pretty well, and I have reached a possible end point, but I'm not quite sure how or where I want to end this story. I guess it all depends. But the next few chapters will hopefully begin to get a little more exciting! Please leave the reviews, I always love reading them :) **

** firefly, thank you sooooo much for the reviews! And I hope this one satisfied your last request ;) **

** Next update will be in the next few days, and the next chapter will not be 8 million words long. I promise. **


	6. Chapter 6

**As promised, lovelies, things are starting to go down! It's shorter as promised. Enjoy! :) **

Chapter 6

"Can I help you, Mr. Finch?" asked the ECD secretary, Melinda. She smiled cordially at the man standing in front of her desk.

"Yes, I'm here to speak to Ms. Hammond. She and I have a 3 o'clock appointment." Eric Finch responded. He was admittedly a little peeved at having to be asked. He was now the Prime Minister of England, and Evey was the Princess of the Revolution, why did she think he was here? But he kept his temper in check, knowing that he was just tired and Melinda was only doing her job.

"Right, go on up. I'll let her know you're here." Melinda gave Finch another warm smile before he nodded and walked towards the elevator. He heard her pick up the phone, saying, "The Prime Minister to see you, Ms. Hammond."

Those words still caught him off guard. "Prime Minister" was such an impressive title, especially to someone who had been Head Inspector just months ago. At times, he wasn't sure that he deserved or could even handle the title. But when Evey had asked him to at least consider the position, he couldn't refuse. Evey had been so grateful to have someone she could trust assisting her with V's revolution.

The elevator opened on the top floor of the ECD building, revealing a room full of desks and people hard at work. Phones were ringing, people typed at computers, and others shuffled in and out, papers in hand. Eric Finch walked down the center aisle, toward a tall wooden door with the word "DIRECTOR" printed on it in gold lettering. He knocked, and a moment later the door was swung open in a flourish, and Evey greeted him with the largest smile he had ever seen on her face.

"Eric! I'm so glad to see you, please, come in." She stepped aside so that he could enter her office. He had been in there many times before, discussing many important manners, but never before had the room seemed so cheerful and alive. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the room's owner was.

"Hello, Evey. You seem…cheerful, this afternoon." He sat in the chair in front of her desk while she sat opposite of him, shuffling papers to the side.

"Things have been going well, haven't they? Isn't it about time that I had a little happiness?"

"Well of course, Evey. I wasn't implying that you shouldn't be happy." He replied. It actually heartened him considerably to see Evey in such high spirits. He knew that V's death had hit her terribly hard, and that she was taking a long time to heal. But in these months she had proven herself to be an incredible woman, who was determined and dedicated to her work.

Yes, an incredible woman that Eric couldn't help but develop feelings for.

He had never failed to notice that Evey was an attractive woman. But while he was inspector, he was hell bent on capturing her and V, in order to put a stop to the chaos that they were creating. He had thought of her as merely an enemy of the government and of the people.

Everything had changed though, as he began to investigate further. He began to question his own leadership and their motives, and he wondered if perhaps V really was doing the right thing. When he had found Evey in the underground, his last remaining sense of duty had told her to stop, and she had refused. She was defying a government agent, the Chief Inspector no less! But her defiance made him realize that he could no longer stand with Norsefire. They had taken away the people's spirit; a spirit that he found embodied in Evey Hammond. He respected her, and all that she had done and was going to do for this country.

But he began to develop feelings for her while they began to work towards a new government. He was in awe of how she threw herself entirely into her work, and how despite the death of her closest friend, V, she had persevered to make his dream a reality. Never before had he met a woman of such courage and strength, and he was immediately drawn to her.

"Now then, I suppose I should tell you why I wanted to have this meeting." Evey began, bringing Finch back down to reality. "I know that it has been a continuous struggle to bring down the eye, the ear, and the finger, and that maintaining the mouth has been a considerable challenge. You mentioned several weeks ago that if you had someone that we trusted, they could become director of the BTN, which would save us a lot of headache. It would be one less thing to worry about."

Eric was confused. He didn't know what Evey was getting at. "Yes, I had mentioned it, but I hadn't been entirely serious. Managing the BTN is a hassle, I admit, but it's something that we can manage together."

"Of course we can, I have no doubt about that. But at some point, we will need to be focused and can't be distracted by running a media outlet. It is a job meant for someone else."

"The way you're talking makes me think that you have someone in mind."

"Oh, if only Gordon Deitrich was still alive. It would be the perfect position for him." Evey said almost too nonchalantly, and she gave Finch a pointed look. He stared hard at her, her insinuation hitting him. He had heard all about how Gordon had been black bagged and killed after his final broadcast. She couldn't really be implying that he was _alive_?

"Evey, are you suggesting what I think you are?" Finch asked carefully.

Evey nodded slowly, "I am. And I'm sure that Gordon would be delighted to tell you the entire story while you two discuss his new position." She had received word from Gordon two days ago, who after much consideration and persuasion on Philip's end, had accepted her offer. She was ecstatic, and could hardly wait to deliver the news to Finch. Evey watched his reaction to said news carefully.

The news was quite surprising to Finch, as would be expected. Gordon Deitrich was alive? Finch sat back in his chair, brows furrowed in concentration. Yes, he would in fact be the perfect person for this job. Although he didn't know the man personally, he knew that he and Evey had worked together and had become close friends. If Evey trusted him, he would too. And it helped that Gordon knew the ins and outs of the BTN, and would make an easy transition.

"If you could set up the meeting, I'm sure that Mr. Deitrich and I could agree on some terms." Eric finally allowed.

Evey gave him another delighted smile, saying, "Wonderful. He'll be delighted to hear this. I'll give you a call once I set everything up. Now I also wanted to talk to you about the next public address…" Just like that, Evey launched into their next topic of conversation. Eric listened with a small smile on his face, watching how Evey lit up as she discussed her work.

And that was when it happened. For Eric Finch, it was like it was in slow motion. Shouts, crashes, and bangs could be heard outside of Evey's office, and before either of them could react, Evey's door was kicked down and a small can rolled into the center of the room. Finch stared at it for a moment, realizing what it was, but not reacting at all fast enough. There was a bright flash and a deafening bang, and soon smoke filled the room. Evey and Finch were knocked to the ground, and Finch could hear Evey coughing and sputtering behind her desk. He tried to call out to her, but he was so disoriented that his mouth simply would not cooperate.

Dark shapes moved through the smoke, and in the daze, Eric wasn't sure what they were until they had walked behind the large wooden desk and grabbed a limp, confused Evey off of the floor. Rebels, he was sure of it. His head was pounding, but he registered enough to know that he had to act. He let out the first syllable of her name in a strangled voice before he was silenced with a blow to the head. Darkness crowded his vision as he watched Evey disappear into the haze.

V had been watching the news with his afternoon tea when suddenly the anchor announced some breaking news. There had been a terrorist attack at The English Culture Department, and Evey Hammond was now missing. V sat rigid on the couch as he watched the report, video feeds flashing to the building where Evey worked. Apparently, men entered the building and used flash bang grenades to subdue the ECD's personnel and ultimately the director, Evey Hammond. She had been in a meeting with Prime Minister Finch, who was knocked unconscious but was otherwise unharmed. An investigation as to who these people were and how they entered the building was currently under way.

V was positively furious. How had this slipped past him? All of his recent intelligence had said that the attack was going to happen in several weeks time, which allowed him time to prepare more thoroughly. How on earth had this gotten past his rigorous surveillance and monitoring of the cell's activities? Nothing had even remotely hinted at an earlier attack, otherwise V would have already taken the cell down.

They must have used false dates for exactly this reason. V had fallen for the tricks of simple minded ex-fingermen.

And now they had taken Evey. How could he have let this happen? He had promised her that he would personally see to the destruction of this rebel cell. He had promised that he would keep her safe. And he had broken both of those promises.

He was already in motion, rising quickly to head to don his hat and cape. He made sure that his knives were strapped to him tightly, and he stalked out into the night, ready to find where they were keeping his beloved.

And he made himself and Evey a new promise: those responsible would suffer.

**Awwwwwwwww snap! Its about to get crazy! But in all seriousness, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. I am really looking forward to writing the next few chapters, and I'll be starting them once I upload this one. I****'m estimating that it'll take me a few days to write, and I want to write at least the next two sort of together so that I can upload one more before I go on vacation. The next chapters will be longer. (And once I'm gone on vacation, I will have wifi but no guarantees that I will have time to write and update, but I will have time to read reviews! It's only a week. So I'll have a fresh brain once I return) Reviews are greatly appreciated! **

** Kassandra203 thanks so much for the review, it means a lot! Hope you enjoyed this one :) **


	7. Chapter 7

**By the way, just in case anybody thought I did, I don't own V for Vendetta. There is my disclaimer.**

Chapter 7

Eric Finch stormed into the office of his former partner, Dominic Stone. He had just been released by the paramedics at the ECD with a large bump on the back of his head and a pounding headache. But that wouldn't slow him down in the slightest. Dominic was already hard at work, and glanced up with a look of surprise when he saw Finch approaching him.

"What do we know?" Finch demanded. He was so angry that he couldn't even bring himself to sit down; he just paced the room, fury rolling off of him in waves.

"Eric, we're doing the best that we can. I've got my best people working on all of the leads we have, but we haven't found anything." Stone replied.

After the fifth, Dominic Stone had been promoted by Finch to Head Inspector. He had originally been offered a much higher position in the fledgling government, but he had politely declined, saying that he wanted to help stop crime and combat terrorism, as he had always done. And he enjoyed the new job; he did miss his former partner, but they still got together quite often to discuss cases and other important government matters. And now, Stone was working full steam ahead to try and find Evey Hammond.

"Damn it, Dominic, that isn't good enough! We have to find her!" Finch yelled, turning to glare at the younger man.

Dominic had never seen his friend in such a rage before, even when they were still trying to apprehend V. He had never lost his wits like this before, and Dominic was starting to suspect an ulterior motive to his motivation.

"Don't tell me that you've developed feelings for her!" Stone accused. "You know how that's going to look! And you know that the rebels who took her are going to use your feelings against you!"

"Dominic, please…"

"You would tell me the exact same thing if the roles were reversed. We have got to approach this objectively if we're going to save her."

Finch steadied himself and took a deep breath. He knew that Stone was one hundred percent correct; he was letting his emotions and feelings for Evey get the better of him. He wasn't thinking clearly, and his actions betrayed this.

"You're right, I'm sorry. But you have to understand, that even if I didn't have feelings for her, she is still the voice of our revolution. Without her, everything that we have been working on for months would fall apart. She is the last tie we have to V; she is essential to the revolution."

It was so hard for him to idly sit by as Evey was missing. Who knows what could have been happening to her? Were they torturing her for secrets? Was she already dead? He didn't know; and that was the worst feeling.

But it was not nearly as worse as the feeling of nausea that crept up onto him as the television in Dominic Stone's office flickered to life, along with all of the other TV screens in the room beyond his door. It was safe to assume that the same thing was happening across all of London. It was the eeriest sense of déjà-vu that Eric Finch had ever experienced; especially when a very familiar Guy Fawkes mask appeared on screen.

"Good evening London." The voice, however, was not familiar, and with the momentary panic gone, Eric also realized that Guy Fawkes had been vandalized. A large red X was painted over the charming façade, making it a disgusting travesty.

Yet the most disgusting thing was yet to come.

"It must come as a shock, not being addressed by your loveable princess, Ms. Hammond. But we have remedied that situation. As you can see, you can still have the familiar face of your beloved princess." The voice sneered.

The camera panned to the side, and Finch could almost feel the collective gasp in the next room. A lump lodged in his own throat. Evey sat in a chair, bound and gagged. She had a rather large cut on her forehead that was caked with dried blood. A bruise could be seen under the cloth that gagged her; it extended from her jaw all the way up to her prominent cheekbones. Sweat beaded her forehead, and the dark circles under her eyes were all the more pronounced. But the scared face that Finch had expected was absent. Instead, Evey's face had twisted into a scowl and hatred burned in her eyes.

"There, that's better," The man said as he stepped into frame next to Evey. "Well, now that we have your attention, it would be rude of us not to introduce ourselves. Some of you may have known us as Fingermen; simple, loyal servants of the people. Yet for all of our years of service and sacrifice, we have been portrayed as the villains, when really, it's people like Ms. Hammond and her terrorist friend V that are the villains. They disrupted the peace that we strived to protect. But no more. We will now be known as Organization X, or X if you will."

Finch saw Evey's face darken as they used the same, single letter style that her friend V had. It sickened him as well.

"And now we would like to address the honorable Prime Minister Finch, a man who used to strive for the same ideals as we did. We know that you're watching, Prime Minister, especially when such a fetching young lady is on screen," He paused to stroke Evey's cheek, who snapped her head away instantly. "You must step down from your position and relinquish your power to Organization X. If you don't comply with our demands, The Princess of the Revolution will be executed on air in exactly twenty four hours. Until then, Prime Minister."

And with that, all of the screens flashed to black. Finch could feel Dominic's eyes boring holes into his skull, and he finally turned to face him.

"You know that there is nothing I would do to jeopardize the revolution." He began. He already suspected that many people now doubted his loyalty.

"I know. But we can't just let them kill her. We need a plan, Eric."

"Well at least now, we know who they are. Their video is probably traceable, and once we find them, we commence a raid. You need to get your people tracing the video. And interrogate some of the fingermen we have in custody to see if they know anything useful. And get a team together for the raid, the clock is ticking." Finch instructed.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to my office; I have a lot of phone calls I need to make. You call me if anything changes." Finch replied as he quickly walked out of his old office. What a complete disaster. In addition to Evey being missing, he now had to worry about a new terrorist organization. And with his position as Prime Minister, he now had calls to make to several other leaders throughout Europe to try and placate them.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

V had just returned from his reconnaissance mission, and it had gone quite well. He had discovered the nest in which the rats who took Evey resided. It was an older office building that was currently for lease, according to the sign in front. It was on the edge of the city, and in a particularly rough neighborhood. Their means of defense were laughable at best, and based on the circulation of guards, he could easily pick out the area of the building that Evey had been locked away.

But he had to wait until nightfall before he could strike. So he returned to the gallery with his new found information to begin formulating a plan. He had only a few hours before he would begin his attack. Explosives were no longer an option, since Evey was inside the building. He could use the same tactics that the cell had; flash bang grenades. V smiled wickedly beneath the mask. Oh yes, that would be _very_ fitting.

"The croaking raven doth bellow for revenge," V hissed. It was one of his favorite quotations from the Shakespeare classic, Hamlet. He had muttered it many times during his twenty year vendetta, and it seemed most fitting now.

Before he began the work of gathering his needs supplies, he decided that he would check the news for any updates on Evey's kidnapping. But before he could even grab the remote, the tele blinked on, and for a brief moment, V thought that it had been turned into a mirror. However, the red X on the mask betrayed the man on the screen as an imposter. When he began his address, mocking the speech that he had made more than a year ago, V quivered in fury. Now, their deaths would be even slower than he had originally anticipated. How dare this man don the mask of Guy Fawkes in such an obscene way; he was not fit to wear it in the slightest!

But V stopped cold when the camera panned to the side to reveal a bruised and bloody Evey. A chill went down his spine, knowing that the last time he had seen her subdued like this was in his fake prison; and by his own hand. However, unlike the last time he had seen this, the person sitting in the chair was not some frightened little girl. She was a fearsome woman whose determined glare made it clear that she was not about to be intimidated by these cowards. Sitting there was the woman V had created in his false prison; a woman that he was unwaveringly proud of.

It still halted his breath, though, to see her like this. And if it had been possible, V would have reached through the screen and strangled that man when he tried to stroke Evey's cheek.

The deal proposed by the terrorist cell was absolutely preposterous. V knew for a fact that Eric Finch was an honorable man, or at least Evey seemed to think so, and he would not sacrifice his country for one woman. No, V knew that by now, the message from the cell was already being traced, and that Finch would soon launch a raid on the cell's hideout. This would be fine in any other situation; however, Evey was involved now. And V had made her a promise to take care of this cell. He had promised them both revenge; and he was not about to break anymore promises. He absolutely could not afford to have any of Finch's men in the building when he began his own raid, for multiple reasons. The first reason being that he couldn't compromise his pretense of death. If any of Finch's men saw him, it would be a disaster. The second reason he couldn't allow Finch's raid was because of the fear of collateral damage. He did not want to risk seriously maiming or even killing someone working for Evey's new government. And finally, V had to save Evey personally. It was his own way of apologizing for allowing this to happen. He had to assure himself of her safety.

V decided that in order to accomplish this, the only way was to go to Finch personally and tell him to hold back. V would have to wait until night had fallen; he knew that Finch would still be at the office, trying to sort out the whole bloody mess. But past a certain hour, he doubted that anyone else would be in the building.

He waited for several hours, preparing for his meeting with Finch and his attack on the cell. He spent at least an hour in the training room throwing his knives at a target to release some pent up energy and stress. After his target practice, it was late enough to begin his journey into London.

* * *

Eric Finch was alone as he sat in his new office. He had sent his secretary home hours ago, and everyone else who worked in his building had clocked out long before that. He was alone, save for the cleaning crew that he heard on the floor below him.

It had been an exhausting night to say the very least. He had made at least a dozen phone calls to leaders from across Europe, and other officials here in London. Dominic Stone had called him only once with news that they had narrowed down a perimeter that the cell was operating out of, but they had not yet pin pointed an address. That phone call had taken place an hour ago, and Eric was beginning to wonder if something had gone wrong.

He was about to pick up the phone to call Stone when the lights went dark and the phone line went dead. He heard the vacuum below him still running, which made him all the more worried. Without thinking he reached for his desk drawer, which housed his handgun. He checked to see that it was still loaded and then clicked off the safety. Rising slowly from his chair, Finch tried to adjust to the darkness that surrounded him. Suddenly, his door, which had been open, swung closed and he heard a swish of fabric. Finch immediately leveled his gun at the point he thought housed the intruder, but quickly lowered it when he heard a familiar voice.

"Good Evening, Inspector. Or should I say, Prime Minister. I can assure you that your weapon will not be necessary."

It was as if someone had dropped a ton of bricks onto him; Finch slumped back into his chair as the man in the shadows stepped into the dim light let in by the blinds. Guy Fawkes smiled charmingly at him, and clasped his hands respectfully in front of him.

"Y-you're supposed to be dead!" Finch stammered in disbelief.

"Forgive me for startling you, Mr. Finch. But I am in great need of your cooperation, and this matter requires the utmost of haste." V cut right to the point.

Finch's mind was reeling. First Gordon Deitrich was alive, and now V? How many people were pretending to be dead? And then he remembered how terribly Evey was grieving for him. For a brief instant, he was furious that this man would hide himself from her, and let her grieve. But then he recalled Evey's elated state earlier that day. She had appeared happy and well rested, and it appeared that she was completely over her grief.

"Does Evey know?" He finally managed to ask.

"Yes, she does," V began. "And that is what I have come to discuss with you. I know that you are close to finding the cell's whereabouts. And I am asking you to stop the search."

Now, Eric Finch _was_ furious. Did he want these madmen to kill Evey? How could he ask for such a thing from him? Finch rose from his seat again, jabbing his finger in V's direction.

"How _dare_ you suggest…" He was cut off brusquely by V, who raised his hand sharply.

"The reason I am telling you to cease your search is that I have already found where the vermin are keeping her. And I want you to hold off on your planned raid. I do not want to be responsible for any collateral damage that might occur if we were to overlap."

"Overlap? You can't seriously be considering going in there alone!" Finch asked incredulously.

"It is no longer a consideration; it never was one in the first place. I will be going in to find Evey and ensure her safety. And then, those responsible for her capture will be punished for their heinous crime."

"If you want me to call off the raid, I have to go with you."

V was shocked that the man was now making demands. He couldn't risk the new Prime Minister of England's life in a mission he knew that he was perfectly capable of handling alone.

"No. That is not an option."

"In that case, the raid will be happening."

"Mr. Finch, I trust that you want Ms. Hammond to return safely. And for that, you need to call off the raid so that I might do exactly that." V fumed. He was quickly getting irritated. This was not how he had planned this conversation on going.

"V, listen. How is Evey going to explain everything to the media once you get her out of there? No one in their right minds will believe that she fought off an entire terrorist cell on her own. No one would believe that she escaped on her own. You need me there so that I can at least provide you with a cover. So either I come with you, or you take your chances when my raid goes down." Finch crossed his arms, surprised that he had been able to stand up for himself against the formidable man known as V. Although he would never admit it, V could be utterly terrifying.

V closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Nothing had been going according to plan, and V was slowly losing his patience. Every second wasted here arguing was another second that Evey was closer to death. He released the breath he had been holding with a sharp hiss that was accented by the mask.

"Although I do not agree with taking such a high risk, I will accept your terms. Thank you." V allowed.

Finch nodded, adding one final statement: "V, you have to realize. You aren't the only one who cares for Ms. Hammond."

V's breath caught in his throat. All he could do was nod.

"Alright then, what's your plan?"

This was enough to shake V from his momentary speechlessness, and he began to describe to Finch all that would have to be done. It was going to be a very long night indeed.

* * *

"How was that, eh love?" asked the tall, broad man as he slipped off the atrocious facsimile of Fawkes. "I thought it went rather well for the first time, don't you?" He chuckled at his own sense of humor as several other men began to shut down lights, cameras, and other production equipment. Evey scowled as best she could with the rag shoved into her mouth.

It had taken Evey less than a minute to piece together what was going on once she had regained consciousness after her kidnapping. She was seated in a rough, wooden chair. Her wrists were bound to the arms of the chair by two pairs of handcuffs, while her legs were left free to dangle. The rag around her mouth smelled unbearable, and it added to the nausea caused by her aching head. She wrinkled her brow and winced, feeling the sharp gash that was now caked with blood along her hairline.

She had realized initially that she had been kidnapped by the cell that V had warned her about. After that, she realized that she was being used as a bargaining chip; they hadn't taken the Prime Minister, but they had taken her. It was almost funny, she thought, at how much easier it would have been to take Finch instead of her. He was worth far more than she was, except maybe for her relationship to V. Now, they had to worry about him leading her search party. Or far worse: V leading her search party. They certainly weren't very bright.

But Evey also realized the implication of being a bargaining chip: once she was no longer of any use to these men, she would be killed without a second thought. Of course she had no doubt in her mind that V would find her. But it was still troubling to know that you could be rendered expendable at any moment. No matter how fearless V might have made her, she still didn't want to die.

The address the rebels had made nearly made Evey sick. It was a travesty to the brilliant speech V had made nearly a year and a half ago. If she hadn't been tied down, she probably would have leapt up and strangled the man on camera. But she was, and never before had she wished so vehemently that looks could kill.

But it also sent a message to her people. She wanted them all to see how she wasn't scared; she wanted to show that it was these men who were the cowards. Evey wanted to remind the people to be fearless, as V had allowed them to be. This event should not plunge them back into terror. And she smiled slightly at knowing that V would see how she had not been broken by fear again. She really was the fearless woman who he had created.

"Alright love, clocks ticking. Let's hope that your Prime Minister really does care about you." Evey was then unlocked and dragged upright. The man who had given the address was a man she had come to know as Roger. He was tall and broad, and had a thick beard. He enjoyed getting as close to Evey as possible, which was how she also knew that his breath was absolutely horrific.

Roger and another man dragged her back to the utility closet where they had been keeping her. They had cleared out all of the supplies and shelving units, and had placed that single, wooden chair in the room for Evey to sit on. She walked with them and sat down without any resistance; she knew that it would be useless. She may have been brave, but she wasn't stupid. These men were much larger than her and were in good physical condition. Resistance would be futile; for now. She would bide her time, and wait for an opportunity.

The handcuffs were fastened around her wrists and to the arms of the chair again. Once she had been secured, the men left the room without another word. Once the door shut and was locked again from the outside, Evey let out a muffled sigh. She was exhausted, but being handcuffed to a chair offered no good position to rest. So she decided that she wouldn't sleep. Not now anyway.

Surveying the room she was in, Evey was struck by how familiar the dark, grey walls were. It was like she was back in V's prison all over again. However, the one she was currently in couldn't compare to the horrible prison that V had fashioned for her personally.

That was an interesting thought. That it was her own personal prison; that V had built it special for her. Of course, she had always known this, but it still struck her whenever she thought about it. She remembered all of those days and nights huddled in the middle of the damp floor, shuddering in the cold and flinching at every sudden noise.

Evey understood why it had happened this way. She no longer questioned his reasons; she even respected them. But sometimes, and especially now, she had time to question his motivations. During some of her interrogations, she had felt the malice oozing off of her questioner. Now, she of course realized that it was V, but it was still so strange. Some of her worst torture sessions had been full of spite and rage; but she could never tell if it was directed straight at her.

She had left V. And when she did, she had almost gotten him killed, the night at the Abbey. He certainly had reason to be angry over that. She regretted that choice every day. Evey sometimes started to ask "what if", as she had done in her letter to V. But was V motivated by his anger at her, the world, or perhaps both? She never could tell, and she wondered if she would ever know.

Of course, none of that would matter if she didn't live long enough to confront V about it. She had no doubt that V was already on the move, either planning if not executing his plan at this very moment. She would be safe. He would save her, she knew that.

But that had been her problem in the old prison, hadn't it? Her fear held her hostage. Evey had been waiting for someone to save her, when in reality, she had to save herself. And she had done it. Unwillingly, that first time. But now? Now she really could save herself, using the strength that V had given her. Her fear could not hold her hostage anymore than the thugs who stood outside of the doorway could.

Now, Evey could not pick locks, and even if she could, she wouldn't last very long with the ex-fingermen outside the door. But perhaps, she wouldn't have to face them if they were distracted. All Evey had to do was find a way out of her chair, and wait for the distraction she was sure V would bring with him. Undoubtedly, a guard would come up once V sprang his attack in order to move her to a new location. And then she could strike; that was her opportunity. The element of surprise was on her side.

Evey squirmed slightly in her chair to test how sturdy it really was. It was old, but it was in fairly decent condition. Suddenly, an idea struck her. Since her legs were free, she was able to swing them up under herself in order to stand hunched over on top of the chair. The handcuffs that bound her to the chair were infinitely stronger than the older wood, and if she applied enough leverage, she could break the chair's arms.

She grabbed a hold of the chain linking the two cuffs in each hand and counted up to three in her head. Once she reached three, Evey pulled as hard as she could onto the cuffs. The chair began to creak, and all of a sudden there was a loud crack. Two things had happened: the chair's arms had both popped off of the legs, while Evey had dislocated her shoulder in the process.

Her cry of pain had thankfully been muffled by the cloth that gagged her; it also provided something to bite down on as she freed her hands from the arms of the chair and forced her shoulder back into its proper position. She massaged her shoulder for a few moments, and then stretched. She allowed herself a few paces around the small utility closet before deciding to sit back down.

The handcuffs were still dangling from her wrists, and she slid them back over the chair's arms. Once they were in place and she had taken a seat herself, she arranged the wood in such a way to make it look as though the chair was still intact in case they came to check on her. She felt much drowsier now, and with her aching shoulder, Evey decided that it wouldn't be a terrible idea to allow herself to rest.

She would have a few hours before V would begin his attack, and she would have her needed distraction. Some rest would be a good way to kill the time, and to recharge her. She would need it in order to take full advantage of the opportunity before her.

**A/****N**

**And there you have it, lovelies. I hope you all enjoyed that, because I really enjoyed writing it! The next chapter will be even better. MEGA bonus points to anybody who recognized Evey's chair breaking from an episode of Burn Notice, when Fiona did the same thing. (Am I alone in this here?) Also, I have a huge favor to ask of my readers in the UK (I think there are like...12 of you) Please let me know how I'm doing here, I'm really trying to leave out the Americanisms and use some more British slang. I could be failing horribley, I don't really know because it's hard for me to catch myself. I think its ok for the most part, but let me know! Thanks so much for those who have favorited and followed, and left reviews! I love it, and I love you guys! Next chapter before I leave on Sunday, promise! R&R!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here you are, lovelies! Chapter 8.**

Chapter 8

It was just after midnight when V and Finch had finally arrived at the cell's hideout. V and Finch crouched behind a dumpster in the alley across the street from the old office building. They watched for a few minutes while the guards in the front of the building entered, and two new guards came out.

"It has to be now if we are going to strike. Are you ready?" V asked, barely above a whisper. Finch nodded in reply, and with that, V rose to his full height, with Finch right behind him. They were far enough down the street that the guards did not notice them silently creep across the road in the shadows that the street lights failed to illuminate.

As they came closer to the building, Finch branched off from V and cut quietly towards the side of the building, where the breaker box was. It was at this point that V paused, and unsheathed two of his knives. They caught some of the moonlight, and they glinted and winked up at him. They seemed almost as alive with energy as their master, eager to do his bidding. He waited only a moment until the lights inside the building shut off. V had instructed Finch to cut the building's power, and then he would take care of the guards out front.

And V did exactly that. Due to his heightened senses, he was still able to see the men in the darkness. The lights that had illuminated their post were now gone, and they had been startled. It took V less than a second to finally get within reach of them. With a vicious smile, V hurled the first knife at the farthest guard. It struck him cleanly in the chest with a sickening thud, and with a cough of blood, the man slumped to the concrete. The other guard had heard his partner's demise, and was now in a panic. He had just opened his mouth to sound the alarm when V had easily lunged forward and slit his neck. The man's face had just enough time to twist into a look of confusion before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he joined the other man on the ground.

By now, the power outage had gained the attention of other men in the compound. V could hear several men approaching the front door to check on their men out front. Finch had also joined him at this point, trying to ignore the fact that two men lay bleeding at his feet, while he stood next to the man who had killed them. He looked to V, who nodded, and Finch retrieved a small canister from his belt. Finch quickly pulled the pin off of the flash bang grenade and launched it at the front doors, shattering the glass they were made out of. He turned to the side and held his hands over his ears, until he glanced at V who was already striding into the building.

Rebels littered the floor of the main foyer, and those that were still conscious were spluttering and trying to stand. They were nothing to V, who dispatched of them as if they were nothing more than pesky insects that were buzzing around his head. All Finch could really do was try and keep up.

"I must find Evey. I know the general area that they are keeping her, and it will not take me long. You must remain here until I return with her, and then I shall seek out the ring leader of this ghastly conspiracy. At this point, I would expect the authorities to be on the way. We have but a matter of minutes." V stated quickly. He was already moving, and was quite annoyed when Finch began to protest.

"V, I get that you have to save Evey. But this man deserves to face a trial and rot in prison. That is the justice he deserves, under our new government. Under _her_ government." Finch argued.

"The man who orchestrated this plot deserves nothing except for death; and that is what I have come to give him. And you will not stop me." V fumed. This was not part of the plan. And time was wasting. The fates certainly had a way of smiling on him this evening.

"Your form of justice may have worked before. But that is not the kind of justice England needs now. It needs to see its criminals tried; it needs to have that closure. Evey would tell you the same thing. Kill the guards, if you must, but I need to take the leader alive. He'll suffer in prison, I assure you." Finch implored.

V sighed; although he absolutely loathed the idea of letting this filth breathe another second for what he intended to do to Evey, he had to respect another man's quest for justice. Is that not what had driven him for twenty years? Had he not been seeking justice? Granted, his justice was to come from revenge; it was not noble, like Finch's justice. But justice was justice, and V had to respect this. All he could do was nod, before stalking off to find Evey.

He knew that she was in the southwestern end of the building, on the second level. He was assuming that from his gathered intelligence, that it was just a small utility closet. He had watched the guards walk past windows near this room, but there was a wide gap with no windows, which suggested that there was a room with no windows. And that was where he was headed now.

He encountered several rebels along the way; none of which proved to be even a slight challenge to V's unstoppable prowess. They had all fallen prey to his eager blades; they were more than happy to acquiesce to their master's request for blood. However, V had underestimated this building's layout. Many of the hallways veered off sharply from his intended destination, and V grew more and more frustrated as he continued his search. He did feel much better though, whenever an unlucky rebel tried to challenge him. It gave him a thrill; there was no use denying it. He wondered vaguely what Evey would think of his ferocity if she saw it. Would she be disgusted by the eager smile underneath the mask? Would she be frightened to know how thrilled he was?

V had little time to ponder such questions as three rebels leapt out in front of him in a vain attempt to surprise him. One of the rebels launched himself at V, who easily grabbed the man out of thin air and slammed him against the wall next to him. The second man now leveled a gun at V, but before he could even aim properly, a knife had embedded in his skull. Now, the final man was shaking. He immediately dropped his gun and sank to the ground and begged V for mercy.

Something about this man quivering in fear sent V into an even deeper rage. This man was a coward; and a disloyal coward at that. He had joined this organization knowing the risks, but now that he was faced with one, he was begging for his life. His other comrades had given their life to this cause. And although V despised them and what they stood for, he at least understood and respected their loyalty to a cause. He himself had almost died for his. But this pathetic creature that sat before him? He did not deserve any mercy.

The man began to wail as V approached him slowly, like a cat that has cornered a mouse. V slowly twirled a knife, delighting in the man's terror. Oh no, this coward would not receive any leniency from the harbinger of death that stood before him.

But V was suddenly reminded of a more important task: finding Evey before she was either killed or moved. So, rather than draw out the man's inevitable death, he quickly put him out of his misery. That was the only type of mercy V would grant him.

* * *

Evey had jerked awake to the sounds of loud bangs her captors running and shouting throughout the hallways. Her mind was still foggy from sleep; she hadn't meant to fall asleep. Once she had become more alert, she noticed that the light that was normally leaking under the doorway was gone. The power must have been cut. It was something that V would do; plunge his enemies into the darkness, where he felt totally at ease. Although he hardly needed the advantage, it would send these men into fear and panic, and that is exactly what they deserved.

Knowing that she would have only a few minutes before the order was given to either move or kill her, Evey sprang into action. She easily lifted up the now useless arms of the chair and slipped the hand cuffs that had bound her off of them. Her next thought was to break off one of the arms to use as a club. Some of the nails were sticking out from where it had been broken off; it may have been primitive, but it would serve its purpose.

Evey then pressed herself up against the wall next to the door as best she could, waiting for the moment that the door would burst open and she would smash down onto the first unlucky man that walked into her cell. After that, her only hope was to be faster than any of the others. Surprise and speed were currently her only allies, except for perhaps the dark.

She only had to wait for a few more minutes before she heard what sounded like only one set of footsteps approach her doorway. While they approached, Evey was able to make out some garbled voice talking over a radio to the man that now grew nearer:

"_She'll be cuffed to the chair, we don't have time for you to unlock those. Just grab the entire thing, she hardly weighs anything. The van is waiting out back. Hurry!" _Evey recognized the voice as Roger's, and it pleased her to hear the arrogance completely gone from his voice. If anything, he sounded utterly terrified.

It was then that Evey heard and saw the door open, and without a second of hesitation, she came down with her makeshift club as hard as she could manage. The man who had entered was far larger than she was, and she might have even guessed he was taller than V; he was certainly broader. Because of his size, Evey was only able to stun him instead of render him unconscious. But that was more than enough; it gave her a small enough window to dash through the doorway and sprint down the hallway. There was no way the man could catch her, due to his lumbering size.

Evey ran through the halls of the building without thinking. She just turned whenever she had to, and whenever there was more than one option, she decided to just keep right. As she ran, the sounds of sirens found their way to her. She rounded a corner and stopped for just a moment to catch her breath. How in the world had she not found her way out yet? It was as if she was in a labyrinth instead of an old office building. The sirens were growing closer, and she knew she had to find V. He wouldn't remain in the vicinity if the authorities were on their way. He could not compromise his identity.

Starting out once again, Evey ran down the hallway to her right until she had to turn again. When she turned, she stopped dead in her tracks. There were three men, strewn about on the floor. Blood pooled under each of them, forming dark, reflective pools. This was V's handiwork. These men had been stabbed, and one had had his throat slit. One man appeared to have had his head cleaved open.

Moments like these reminded Evey of who she had fallen in love with. He may be an incredibly charming, intelligent, and suave character, but he had still killed many people. It was easy for him; she wondered what emotions played in his head as he took another man's life. She did not fear V, because she knew that he would never hurt her again. But it was always a grim shock to remember that he easily could if that is what he chose to do.

The sounds of footsteps shook Evey from her stupor, and she bolted down the hallway, trying her best not to trip over the corpses that lay in her path. She was approaching a turn, and there was no fork. She had only one option, and that was to turn left.

As she rounded the corner, Evey slammed into what felt like a brick wall. She crashed to the ground, and squirmed away as fast as she could, despite the pain in her shoulder, fearing that it was the man she had attempted to knock out.

"Evey?" Relief flooded over Evey as she heard the deep, resonant voice coming from the man. She looked up and was greeted by the cheerful smile of Guy Fawkes. V sounded quite shocked to see her, but she didn't care. She scrambled up and threw herself into V's arms.

"Evey, be careful, there are knives under here!" V scolded gently. But he did not remove her arms; he only adjusted them so that they would not strike one of his knives. He had been just as shocked to see her as she was to see him, but he was filled to the brim with relief. Evey was safe, and in his arms. That was all that mattered.

"I apologize, Evey, but we must be moving. It will not be long before we are discovered. Are you hurt? Are you well enough to walk?" V asked, surveying her.

"I ran all the way here, didn't I? We can worry about my injuries later. You're right, V, we need to get out of here." It troubled him that she had in fact confirmed her injuries, but she was also right in saying that it could wait. They turned to go down the hall that Evey had come from, V apparently having a better sense of direction than she. They had gone perhaps ten feet when V froze, and pinned Evey to the wall, forming a barrier around her. She was about to protest, when she heard saw the two men that now approached them on either side. Guns had been aimed at them both, and Evey saw no way out of this situation.

V had taken out his knives without a second of hesitation, and he wielded them dangerously in front of him.

"Do you think you can throw faster than I can shoot? Don't try it, or Ms. Hammond there will become a lovely wall decoration." The man on the right taunted. V knew that he was correct; any move he made could not be faster than a gun. And although he could probably survive another gunshot wound or two, Evey would not be so fortunate.

However, fortune was smiling on the pair. There was a deafening crack of a gun going off, but it didn't belong to any of the rebels that had trapped Evey and V. It belonged to none other than Eric Finch. V saw this as his chance and expertly flung the knife into the other man's chest. Evey looked wide eyed at Finch for a brief second, before she stared at V.

"You told him?" Evey asked, incredulously.

"Yes, I did. But now is not exactly the best place to have this discussion." V answered.

"V, the police have just arrived. I have the boss detained, but you had better leave now. You've got about thirty seconds before London's finest storm the place."

V nodded. "Yes, you're right. Take Evey out to the paramedics, and tell them the story exactly as we discussed earlier."

Evey was then transferred from V's grip to Eric's; all the while she was still trying to piece together the last few minutes of conversation. When had V told Finch? Had he known before Evey? Were they secret allies? But the more important issue at hand was that V was leaving.

"V! Wait!" Evey called after the man, who was already retreating.

V stopped and turned, and quickly approached the lady, saying, "My dear, you know why I cannot stay. If I did, I should compromise everything. Let Eric do all of the talking, and then you must return to me in the morning once you are well." With that, he gently caressed her cheek, and made his exit.

Evey turned and opened her mouth to ask Finch a question, but he quickly cut her off.

"Not the time or the place, Evey. We have to go now." He gently grabbed her elbow and guided her down the hallway away from the dead rebels strewn about the floor. Finch seemed to have a pretty good idea as to where he was going, so Evey didn't complain about him leading the way.

Once they arrived outside, chaos erupted. Dominic Stone was the only face Evey recognized who had run up to them. He nodded briefly at her, before she was handed off to a pair of paramedics. Evey protested, saying that she was fine, but they wouldn't hear any of that, and they led her over to a waiting ambulance where they began to fuss over her cuts and bruises, and badger her with questions.

"Do you remember anything, Ms. Hammond? Are you hurt anywhere else? Does it hurt when I apply pressure here?" Evey answered all of the questions, desperately wanting to escape the madness outside of the office building and head to the Shadow Gallery.

"I did dislocate my shoulder." Evey offered; it was the only other injury besides the cuts and bruises that she had sustained during her ordeal. "But I popped it back into place. It's just a tad bit sore, now."

One of the paramedics hopped into the back of the ambulance and produced a navy blue sling for her arm.

"You're going to have to wear this for about two weeks until it feels better. Ice the shoulder every day, and when it gets sore. If it's still bothering you in two weeks, or if the pain worsens in the next few days, you'll need to get an x-ray." The man explained to her as he helped her into the sling.

After they explained that, and gave her some pain medication, they cleared her to leave. Evey thanked them, and then walked off to find Finch. It didn't take her long; he was surrounded by reporters and camera men, and appeared to be giving a statement. Dominic was by his side, along with a few other men that Evey assumed were from Stone's department.

A reporter towards the back of the crowd spotted her approach, and immediately ran up to her, pestering her with questions. Then, all of the other reporters noticed the commotion, and followed suit. Finch walked after them, but made his way through the crowd to get to Evey. She was in no condition to deal with the press, and he felt that it was his duty to get her out of this situation as quickly as possible. When he finally broke through to Evey, he was surprised to see that she was actually giving a statement to the reporters who clambered around her.

"Londoners, take comfort in knowing that the men who took me and threatened our revolution were stopped. These men, or should I say, these cowards, tried to make you fearful once again. These cowards tried to make me fearful again; and it did not, nor will it ever succeed. Rebels will not slow the revolution. We will prevail, and these scoundrels will face justice for all of their wrong doings." Evey snarled.

With her powerful statement made, Evey turned on her heel and walked away from all of the reporters, Finch close behind her. She strode confidently, even with her arm in a sling, and Finch had to walk at a very brisk pace to keep up with her.

"Evey, let me drive you home. I can tell you what happened on the way." Finch offered. Evey stopped. She was about to refuse the offer; she wanted to go directly to the Gallery. But she desperately wanted to know what had happened before she had been found. And she also realized that nobody in their right minds would have let her wander the streets of London alone at night, especially given the circumstances. She admitted to herself that it actually was a foolish thing to do.

"Alright, Eric. Thank you." She turned and let Eric lead the way to a police cruiser that was waiting on the curb. Eric opened the passenger side door for Evey, and hopped into the driver's seat himself. The car roared to life, and they were soon on their way through the London streets.

"How long have you known about V?" Was the first thing Evey could ask.

"V came to me this evening, only a few hours ago. He scared the living daylights out of me, for the record. But he told me that he knew where you were, and that I needed to call off my own raid so that he could rescue you. I did, on the condition that he allowed me to help." Finch explained to her.

Evey wrinkled her nose, "How on _earth_ did you get him to agree to anything? The man is so persistent."

"If anyone is the expert in cajoling V, it is you, Evey. Had the circumstances been different, I would have lost the argument. But time was of the essence, and he didn't want to risk losing you."

Evey laughed at the first part of the statement, and smiled gently at the last part.

"And after he came to me, he explained to me what the plan was. We entered the building after cutting the power, and from that point, I think you know the story." He concluded.

"Where were you during that time?" Evey asked. She knew that V was the one to lay waste to the guards in order to find her, not the man sitting next to her. She was very curious as to the whereabouts to this man during V's search.

"While V was looking for you, I had to go detain the cell's ring leader. He hardly put up a fight; you were spot on when you called these men cowards."

By now, they had reached Evey's flat. Finch opened the door for Evey, and helped her out of the car as best he could with her sling. Evey unlocked the door to her apartment, and let Finch in. He looked around; it was of decent size, and the walls were a welcoming crème color. They stood in her sitting room, which had a mismatched set of furniture, and a small TV. Evey had done little to decorate the space, but it still had her influences, Finch noticed. A small desk sat next to a window, which led out to the fire escape. Papers were piled sky-high on the desk; she always took her work home with her.

Evey noticed Eric looking around, and she had a moment of embarrassment. "Sorry for the mess, Eric, had I known I would be kidnapped today I would have tidied the place up a bit." She laughed weakly.

"Evey, that's hardly a priority at the moment. I was just comparing it to your old flat." Eric responded.

Yes, he had seen her old flat, back when she was a wanted terrorist. It had been much smaller than this one, and it was far different. It spoke of an entirely different person who had made a home within its walls. He wondered if she would even feel comfortable in her old flat, seeing as how she had changed so much.

"I'll call you in the morning to see how you're doing, and if I have any news. You know that Dominic is working at full speed to find out what happened." He turned to go, but stopped himself. He turned to face Evey once more, "I'm so glad you're okay."

Before he could stop himself, Eric Finch placed a brazen kiss on Evey's cheek before turning and walking out the door. Evey barely had any time to register what had just happened. She touched her cheek where she had just felt his lips. It had felt so terribly wrong, but she had no time to think about it. Evey had to get down to the Shadow Gallery to be in the arms of the man she truly loved. Brushing aside any thoughts of Finch's daring advance, she did her best to put on a jacket, and headed out the door.

* * *

It shouldn't have surprised V to hear footsteps approaching the Gallery. He recognized them instantly as Evey's; the soft cadence was undeniably her. He sighed. Although he had told Evey to stay in her flat until the morning, somehow he just knew that she would defy him and come to him that night.

Not that he was complaining. V cherished any time spent with this woman, and the idea that she now desired to come to _him,_ was wonderful indeed. He was elated that she wanted to come to him. And he was even more pleased that this was where he could ensure her safety; not just in the Gallery, but in his arms at last.

But he would have to berate her regardless. She had just been kidnapped by rebels, and now she was risking the London streets past midnight. Alone. Anything could have happened to her, and V then berated himself for not watching after her if he had known she would come to him. But regardless, here she was, opening the door and walking right into his life.

The first thing he noticed was her arm in a sling; when had she hurt her arm? She did not seem to be in terrible amounts of pain when he had found her, but he knew that adrenaline often masked pain. Perhaps he had hurt her inadvertently, when they had run into each other. That pained him greatly, to know that he might have physically harmed her, albeit on accident.

He was up in an instant, approaching her and searching her face for any other signs of pain. His hand rose instinctively, and before he even realized it, he was gently caressing her cheek. He dropped his hand, not wanting to appear too forward. To get his mind off of sweeping her into his arms, he gently scolded her, "Evey, you should not have come this late. It was a terrible risk for you to come now. Surely you realize this."

Evey's heart sank a small degree, but not enough to discourage her. "And surely you realize why I couldn't wait until morning." She countered.

Realizing he could have offended her, he quickly back tracked. "Of course I do. I did not mean for you to think I do not want you here. It is a great relief to see you here, safe. I apologize if I have offended you."

Evey laughed lightly; he was always a gentleman. "You have nothing to apologize for. I know that it was dangerous and stupid, and I shouldn't have made you worry. But I had to see you."

V nodded his understanding. His eyes dropped then, and rested on her arm that dangled in the sling. He was now worried that she harbored other hidden injuries. Evey noticed his concern over her arm, and she could easily guess what his mind was flashing to. She put those thoughts to rest immediately.

"I dislocated my shoulder trying to escape. Nothing else is hurt, except for my face. I just have to wear this sling for a few weeks and keep ice on it, I'll be alright." Evey soothed.

Her statement wasn't remotely humorous, but it struck V in a funny way. He chuckled lightly; yes, it was exactly like Evey to dislocate her shoulder in an attempt to escape. She narrowed her eyes at him, and placed her good arm on her hip.

"What's so funny, hmm?"

"My dear, I apologize for laughing. Nothing about that is funny; but I must inquire as to how you injured your shoulder during your daring escape."

And so Evey launched into a description of how she had been kidnapped, and then used her own restraints to set her free. V appreciated this irony immensely, and listened intently to the rest of her story. Parts of it angered him, like when she described how she had been taunted by Roger. But other parts warmed his heart, like when she described how she refused to be a damsel in distress. V was filled to the brim with pride over this woman who stood before him. She had used everything he had taught her in order to find strength, and save herself, as she had done all those months ago. He had been successful.

When Evey described how Finch had taken her home and had explained everything, she hesitated. She looked at anywhere but the mask, and then continued to how she had walked to the Gallery. The moment lasted only one or two seconds, but it was enough for V to have noticed.

"Evey, forgive me for interrupting. But is something wrong?" V asked, concerned. Had something happened with Finch? His comments in the office were now ringing in his ears, and V couldn't help but worry.

"Why would you say that?" Evey asked, immediately defensive.

"You hesitated in your story. I only ask because it appears that you are troubled, and it has to do with the tale you have spun for me."

Evey pursed her lips, but knew that it would be useless to hide anything from V. And after all, didn't he deserve to know?

"As Eric was leaving, he kissed me." She stated simply.

V eyes widened behind the mask. Finch had kissed her? And she had intended to keep this from him, to hide it? V was shocked, and his mind began to reel. The cynical voice in the back of his mind was now laughing at him, telling him that Evey was about to conclude her story with her confessing her love for Eric Finch. She would leave him, and never return.

"He did _what?_" V asked, barely above a whisper. It was all he could do to prevent himself from shouting.

Evey realized that she had caused him to panic; she could see the wheels turning in his head, creating incorrect scenarios about what had actually happened. She eased his worry immediately.

"Oh, V. It was on the cheek, nothing more. It's nothing, I shouldn't have mentioned it. I was reading into it when I shouldn't have. It was just a friendly gesture; I really shouldn't have mentioned it." Evey said, placing a comforting hand on his forearm. "Really, I shouldn't have made you worry over something like this. It's ridiculous, he's just a friend. And it was a friendly gesture."

V knew that she was wrong; this was not a "friendly gesture". Finch had told him of his feelings for Evey, and it made him worry. He was the Prime Minister of England. He was kind and honorable, and he and Evey worked well as a team. And most of all, he didn't hide a disfigured face behind a Guy Fawkes mask. He could give Evey everything that she deserved.

V nodded curtly, saying, "Yes, of course."

Evey was mentally beating herself to a pulp for even mentioning this to him. Of course his self-doubt would rear its ugly head, and of course he would worry about this. To try and ease his worries, Evey stepped forward and embraced him with her one good arm. V hesitated, but once Evey rested her head on his chest, he relented and wrapped his arms around her, trying to avoid hurting her shoulder. He failed, but Evey ignored the pain.

"V, while I was being held, I had a lot of time to think. I thought about all sorts of things, like escaping and how it compared to your prison. I thought about the strength you gave me there. But the one thing I couldn't stop thinking about was you. And I especially thought about the letter I wrote to you on the fifth."

She could feel his sharp intake of breath, and she squeezed him slightly to offer reassurance before continuing:

"All I could think about was how if I died, I would never have a chance to tell you the words of that letter in person. For the rest of your life, you would doubt them, thinking that it was just my fresh grief, and not my actual feelings. That would be my biggest regret, V. Not telling you that I love you. Because I do, and I need you to know that."

Of all the ways V had imagined this conversation playing out, none had ended in her actually saying that. Most ended with her saying that it actually was just her emotions getting the better of her. Others ended with her leaving him for good. But none of them had ever had this ending.

And it was the best ending he could have ever hoped for. When she said those words, he looked down at her slowly, meeting her gaze. It was unwavering, and her eyes told him that she was telling the truth. His mask was tilted to the side ever so slightly, to indicate that he was thinking.

"I love you, V." She said it again, with so much conviction that he almost laughed out loud. But instead, he looked down at the petite woman in his arms and squeezed her just a little bit tighter. How long had he hoped to hear those words from this beautiful creature he now held? And she was not returning the endearment out of pity, nor out of obligation. She had declared it first, and in a way that V found difficult to argue with. So he didn't. He returned the vow of love he had only uttered once, when he thought he would never have the chance to again.

"And I love you, my dear Evey."

Evey's face lit up with the most wonderful smile, and she laughed softly. A tear slid out onto her cheek, and soon more poured out. They were not tears of sadness or anger, but of joy, and of release. So V held her while she cried and she did her best to hold him back. Finally she murmured something about her "cursed sling", and V finally escorted the exhausted Evey Hammond to her Gallery bedroom.

* * *

Evey woke the next morning to the sounds and smells of V cooking breakfast. The Wurlitzer played a happy tune while sounds of utensils clanking on cookware and sizzling food rattled along with the song. Evey rolled over onto her back, and hissed in pain as her shoulder protested. She was sore all over, especially now that the pain medication the paramedics had given her had run its course. But her shoulder was being down right irritable this morning, and she rose to greet V and find herself some ice.

Evey padded along down the hallway, struggling to adjust her sling to a more comfortable angle and grumbling to herself the entire way. After her fight with the sling, Evey scratched her head, realizing that she would have to have another battle with her hair later. She was no longer keeping it shaved, and it had grown out to be as long as the average boy's hair. It was terribly hard for her to manage, especially in the morning.

She finally entered the kitchen, and was about to greet V when he beat her to the punch.

"Ah, bonjour mademoiselle." He said in a cheerful voice. His allusion was not lost on her, and she smiled wistfully at him.

"Good morning, V. How did you sleep?" Evey asked. She wasn't even sure he had slept; she sometimes wondered if he ever did. But it was a polite thing to ask, and she enjoyed the easy conversation.

"Oh, quite well knowing that you were safe." He responded, flipping the eggs while he talked.

He was preparing her favorite dish, "Eggy in a Basket", which also happened to be the same dish he had prepared for her on her first morning in the Gallery. He knew that it would please her, especially alongside his earlier quotation from that same morning. Evey seated herself at the kitchen table, and he watched as she nursed her shoulder. He had anticipated this, having once had the same injury himself. Granted, he had a very high tolerance for pain and rapid healing, but it was still bothersome. He stepped away from the stove and reached into a cabinet next to it. He produced a glass and a small bottle of aspirin. He filled the glass with water and placed it front of Evey, along with the bottle.

"You may want to wait until you have had something to eat, but that should help ease your pain. We should ice it after you have eaten your breakfast." He instructed.

Evey nodded and smiled in thanks, and begin to sip at her water. The eggs were done shortly, and V placed the steaming plate in front of her. He also poured her a cup of tea, something he knew she enjoyed with her breakfast. He sat across from her and watched contentedly as she ate.

As she ate, Evey talked to V about the work she had been doing recently for the ECD. She was very busy talking with city planners about removing all of the old Norsefire propaganda, and bringing art back into the city. She was very excited when she told V that she had commissioned several artists to create some public art. V listened intently, thoroughly enjoying her enthusiasm. He was delighted to know that she was the one spearheading his revolution. Yes, London was in good hands.

Once she had finished eating, Evey rose and took her plate to the sink, where she washed it despite V's protests. After she had dried the plate and placed in the cabinet with its mates, she turned to face V.

"Well, I need to head to work. I'm sure it's a frenzy up there, and I'm expecting a phone call from Finch regarding the rebels." Evey said.

V was rather surprised. She had been kidnapped not even twenty four hours ago, and the woman was already going to go into work? V respected and admired her dedication, but he wanted her to rest as well.

"Evey, there is nothing that can't wait until tomorrow at the very earliest. You were just kidnapped, I'm sure that no one is expecting you in the office today. You need to rest, so that your injuries will heal and you will regain your energy." V protested. "Why don't you stay here, in the Gallery? Perhaps there is a movie you would like to watch."

It was a very tempting offer, and she was very close to accepting it. But she shook her head, saying, "V, I'm fine. A little aspirin and I will be as good as new. I have so much I need to do, and I really need to find out the latest as to what has happened."

Behind the mask, V frowned. Oh, she was going to be difficult. And he knew that he couldn't convince her otherwise.

"Alright, if you must go, then you must. But I would implore you to perhaps take the afternoon for yourself. At the very least, do not stay late. I will escort you to your flat, so that you might gather your things. And I will check on you this evening when you return home." V allowed.

She smiled in victory; Finch was right, perhaps she was an expert at breaking V's iron will. Or at least bending it. "I just have to gather a few of my things, and I'll be ready to go."

The walk through the tunnels was quiet and uneventful, but both Evey and V were content as they walked side by side. Finally, they reached Evey's station, and V turned to Evey.

"It will be light now, and this is as far as I can accompany you."

Evey turned and wrapped her one arm around V. "Thank you, V."

He returned her embrace, whispering "Be safe" into her ear. She nodded, and began to walk off. But she stopped abruptly and turned back to him, a small glint in her eyes. She strode up to V, and reached up on her tip toes and planted a gentle, tentative kiss on the cheek of the mask. It was like an electric shock; it left V frozen until she smiled up at him and softly said, "I love you." That was enough to shake him from his paralysis as he responded,

"And I, you."

And with that, Evey walked up and out of the shadows and into the world above.

**A/N **

**Woo, I'm so glad I got that done before my vacation like I promised! And I was very pleased with how it all turned out. I had some reservations about how V should act with the rebels, but, lets be honest here guys, the guy is a little bit insane. I wanted to stay true to the character that was really motivated by revenge. It may have been a _little_ dark, but I feel that that is how V would react. Anyway, we'll learn more about the attack as the chapters progress. (And plenty more V and Evey goodness that I know we all love.) PLEASE leave some reviews, I love them a lot. It's like Christmas morning when I open up my email and find a message saying that I got a review. I love them do death. **

**On another note, I have finished the plan for this story. I know exactly where its going, and how it will end, and I'm super pleased and I can't wait to get it all written out for you guys! **

**So, I will most likely not have any updates for a week at the very least, but more likely a week and a half. (But this vacation will recharge the writing batteries!) R&R my lovelies! **


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack! And here, for all of my lovely wonderful amazing readers, YOU yes you, is chapter 9! Once again, I only wished I owned V for Vendetta. Because I don't. **

Chapter 9

The first thing Evey noticed when she approached the building she worked in was that now, two large men stood on either side of the front door. They were dressed in black suits, and it was obvious that they were from the government. She figured that they were just there for extra security; she wouldn't be surprised if Eric had sent them and now had them stationed at every government building.

Evey was about to just walk past them, when one of them stuck his arm out to stop her. She almost rammed into his thick arm, but caught herself just in time. Backing up a step, she looked up at the guard who had stopped her.

"Is there a problem?" She asked as politely as she could manage. Why was she being stopped from entering her own department? Didn't they recognize the director of the building?

"We're sorry, Ms. Hammond. We know that this must be a terrible inconvenience for you. But we've been instructed to see identification for all personnel, and that includes you miss. Prime Minister's orders," replied the guard who had prevented her entrance.

Evey huffed out a breath. Certainly they could make an exception for her; after all, they had both recognized her. Evey took a deep breath to calm herself down. These men were only doing their job, and if she really thought about it, it was for the revolution's own protection. The very least she could do was show them some I.D.

After struggling for several minutes with her purse and her sling, she was finally able to produce her ECD badge. Evey handed it to the man who had stopped her, and he glanced at it briefly. He handed her the badge back, and stepped back to open the door for her. Evey smiled and thanked him before entering the building, all the while fighting with her purse, sling, and briefcase.

As habit, Evey always walked up to Melinda's desk to say a brief hello and collect her mail and check with Melinda regarding the day's meetings. Today however, she was so busy with her purse that she didn't even bother to look up. She expected Melinda's bright, cheerful voice to call out from her chair, but when she didn't hear the perky voice, Evey looked up in confusion. It was very unlike Melinda to not greet her the instant she walked in the door. Evey was shocked to see that Melinda was not there. In fact, nobody was. She approached the desk and looked over the edge for any signs of life.

While she was investigating, the door to the mail room burst open, scaring Evey half to death. She dropped her purse, and had to catch herself on the desk to steady herself. Evey watched as a rather plump, old woman waddled her way over to the desk and sat down in the chair with a thud. After a moment, the woman finally glanced up and took in Evey's bedraggled state, making Evey suddenly self conscious over her appearance. Her cropped hair was a complete disaster, and her face was bruised while the cut on her forehead was still fresh; not to mention her arm was resting in a sling. She must have looked a fright.

"May I help you?" The elderly woman asked gruffly. Her dark hair was streaked with grey, and her wrinkled face stared up at her grumpily behind a pair of wire rim glasses. Evey was quite surprised at the contrast between this woman and her other secretary.

"Um…yes, I'm Evey Hammond. Is Melinda ill?" She asked, wanting to be sure that the young girl was alright.

"I don't know. Now what do you need Ms. Hammond, do you have an appointment?" She asked brusquely.

"I'm the director here, ma'am. I wanted to check with Melinda about any appointments _I_ have today, but since she isn't here, I suppose I should be checking with you." Evey replied impatiently. This woman certainly wasn't very friendly, and if she was working as the secretary for the department, she should at least know who the director herself was. How did she ever land this position? Evey was certain Finch had something to do with it, and she would ask him about it once he called her later.

The woman absorbed this information and sat there for a moment, thinking. Then, she slowly turned to the computer and shook the mouse to wake the computer. The screen blinked on, and the woman slowly began to click on files, but then close them out just as quickly. Evey was growing annoyed; this woman was quite rude, and now, her shoulder was aching from having to hold all of her things while she waited. Finally, Evey puffed out a breath and addressed the woman with as much decorum as she could manage: "It's alright; if anyone needs to see me, just page me and let me know. I'll be in my office for most of the day."

Before the woman could reply and slow her further, Evey turned and walked towards the elevator and hit the up button. Maybe she should have just stayed down in the Shadow Gallery with V; it now sounded like a far better idea than being here at work. But she had made it this far, so she might as well get some work done. She would take V's advice and leave early, and perhaps she would make her way to the Gallery rather than her flat after work.

Once the elevator opened to her floor, she stepped out into room leading up to her office. There were several desks around the room, where some of her employees worked. However, today, only two people could be seen working. They waved warmly at Evey, but made no move to greet her. They looked tired, and Evey had half a mind to send them home for the rest of the day.

She pushed open the door to her office, which had thankfully been cleaned up since the attack. She could see a black mark on the grey carpet where the grenade had gone off, but that was the only indication that anything had gone awry. Evey placed all of her things down on a side table, where she noticed several bouquets of flowers. Most were from her few friends, the largest one of course from Gordon and Philip. She also noticed a small vase from Eric, and another from the janitor of the building. A soft smile crept onto her face as she read all of the cards that had well wishes for her recovery.

Once she had moved some of the vases around the room to offer some life to the plain office, she sat down and looked at the paperwork in front of her. She had several new propositions for the opening of museums to look at, and there was even a blueprint for a new museum dedicated entirely to the revolution at the bottom of her stack of papers. All of these things needed her attention and ultimately her signature of approval.

It was difficult for her to finally get situated with her sling, but once she did get comfortable she easily delved into her work.

Twenty minutes later, she was completely engrossed in the reading she was doing. She was currently perusing the plans for the new museum of the revolution, and she was quite interested in the plans they had for honoring V's memory. They of course wanted her to make some tearful, heart wrenching speech at the opening of the museum about how she missed her dear friend and fellow revolutionary. She wondered what V would think of it; she would ask him when he came to check on her that evening. Evey was just glancing at some sketches when suddenly her speaker phone sprang to life, her gruff new secretary announcing curtly, "Deitrich to see you."

Evey thanked her, although she doubted that she even paid her any mind. However, the prospect of talking with Gordon after her ordeal heartened her considerably. She shuffled some of her papers to the side and waited patiently for the man's arrival. She didn't have to wait long, as Gordon threw open the door as only a showman like himself would do a few minutes later.

"Evey, my dear, thank god you're alright!" Evey rose as he approached her so that she could give him a one-armed hug. "You weren't at your flat, so I figured I would try over here next. You should really get some rest, Evey. You were just kidnapped, after all!"

Evey rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Gordon. But I'm fine, really. Thank you for the flowers, by the way. Did you pick them out, or did Philip? He strikes me to have the better taste in flowers between the two of you," Evey quipped, trying to steer the subject away from her. All of this attention and fussing was starting to get on her nerves.

"I'll have you know that I made the final decision on these! They're quite striking, aren't they?" Gordon replied indignantly as he pointed to the large bouquet of bright, yellow daffodils and daisies. "Although I suppose you must be feeling fine if you have enough wits about you to make remarks like that."

Gordon took a seat, then, not wanting to keep Evey standing any longer. They chatted idly for a few minutes, Gordon talking about his escapades with Philip, while Evey mentioned some of her recent outings with a few friends from the old BTN. It was happy, companionable talk, interspersed with laughter and jokes. But after a lull in the conversation, Gordon became more serious.

"Evey, although I am delighted to see you safe and well, I must admit, this was more than a social call. I have a request that I must make of you."

Evey narrowed her eyes at him dramatically, "And what might that be? Your requests have a way of getting me into trouble." She teased, referring to the night she first met V, when she had intended to meet Gordon.

He laughed. "Although I agree with your assessment, I hope that this will not end poorly. I was wondering if perhaps you would consider being a guest on my new show. Granted, the show is still in the works, and won't air for several more months. But I thought it would be lovely to open up the show with you, the Princess of the Revolution, as my guest. The ratings would be through the roof!" Gordon began to day dream about the shows future success, but quickly snapped back to reality.

Evey had expected this day to come at some point, especially since she had set Gordon up with his new position as head of the BTN. She just hadn't expected it to come so soon. But it was a wonderful opportunity, she knew. And it really wasn't all that different from making addresses to the people; and it would be even easier, with Gordon by her side. She was slowly getting over her camera jitters, with her frequent addresses. It would certainly be a refreshing way to approach the people, rather than in such a serious light.

"I would be honored, Gordon. Truly." Evey smiled.

Gordon clapped his hands together, declaring how delightful it all would be. He was already spewing ideas about a possible comedy sketch, what they would both be wearing, what the set would need to look like, and everything else that a showman must worry about. Evey laughed as she watched Gordon disappear into his own little world. Her laughter shook him from his thoughts, and he rose.

"Well Evey, it has been lovely to see you. I can't tell you how relieved Philip and I were to hear that you were safe. You have a wonderful man looking over you." He was careful not to name names, knowing full well that the Ear was still operational, and that V's identity could not be jeopardized. To anyone listening, they would assume they were talking about Eric Finch.

"But you'll have to come out to the house one of these days for dinner, Philip absolutely _adores_ you. And he has some new recipes he wants to try out on someone besides me." Gordon said with a smile. He gave her another friendly hug before Evey walked him to the elevator.

After their farewells and promises to have dinner together soon, Evey turned to walk back to her office. She saw that her two remaining employees were still hard at work, and she approached them and told them to take the rest of the day off. With grateful smiles, and several words of thanks, they packed up their things and left Evey alone on her floor.

She had just sat down in her office chair when her phone came alive with her secretary's voice again: "Prime Minister Finch to see you." Evey was impressed that this woman actually knew who he was. She reminded herself to ask Finch about her once he was in her office.

Evey didn't have to wait long, as Finch bustled into her office. He still had his coat on, and he appeared to be in some sort of a hurry. Evey was immediately concerned; her mind began to whir as several disaster scenarios played out in her head. The way Eric swooped into her office made her think something was wrong.

"Eric, is everything alright? I thought you would just call. Has something happened?" She asked, rising up and walking around her desk to stand in front of the man who had entered her office.

He shook his head, "No, everything is fine. I just left a meeting and I'm on my way to another, but I was right in the neighborhood so I figured that I would just drop in and see how you were doing."

Relieved, Evey sat back down in her chair. "I would be doing better if you had sent me a better secretary, and perhaps told the guards that I didn't need I.D. But other than that, I'm doing quite well."

Finch chuckled briefly before saying, "I'm sorry Evey, and I should have at least called you to give you some sort of warning. I'll talk to the guards on the way out; it won't be an issue anymore. But Ms. Hayes is an old family friend, and she used to work as a secretary for a school. She's only temporary, until we find Melinda's replacement."

Replacement? Evey had just assumed that Melinda was perhaps taking a day or two off after the attack, as most of her other employees had been instructed to do. At the very least, she thought perhaps she had fallen ill. But why was there need to replace her?

Finch seemed to read her mind, and his face fell as he explained, "Evey, I've got a lot of things that I need to discuss with you, but now isn't really the time. I'm running late as it is. Why don't you come over for dinner tonight, and I can fill you in then. All of my meetings today have been in regards to either your attack or the remaining strands of Norsefire, and I've a lot to tell you and little time to do it."

Finch had left her with more questions than answers, and had left her even more worried about her secretary Melinda. She hoped that nothing bad had befallen the young girl. Now that she thought about it, she had likely been hurt when the rebels entered the building. Was it possible she had been killed? She was about to ask Finch as much, but he was already getting up to leave.

"How about you come by around six? Will that be alright? I don't want you working too late tonight, Evey. You need a good hot meal and some rest." He suggested.

Evey rolled her eyes again. "Yes, alright. Why won't everyone accept that I'm just fine?"

"Evey, you may not see it, but everyone else does. You need to relax, and take some time for yourself. You're working yourself to hard. Nobody wants to see you burn yourself out." He chided gently.

"And that's what dinner will be, some relaxation. Will that satisfy you? Shall I bring anything?"

"Perhaps a dessert, if you want. I'm no good with baking." He laughed.

At this point, Eric Finch declared that he really should be going, after all he couldn't be late to his own meeting. He waved at Evey as he walked out the door, and she smiled after him. Finally, she sat back down to work.

Evey only managed to get another hour of work done before she couldn't bring herself to focus anymore. She glanced at the clock, which now read four o'clock. Deciding to take everyone's advice, Evey packed up her belongings and took the rest of the evening for herself.

She called out a goodbye to Ms. Hayes, who only nodded in return. The two guards standing outside also nodded their heads as she walked by, and Evey called out a pleasant goodbye to them as well. She smiled as she walked to her car, deciding that she should go to the bakery before she returned home. Evey was thinking about getting brownies, and she laughed aloud at how despite having an incredibly complex life, she was still able to go enjoy a simple evening with one of her friends.

* * *

However, choosing the evening's ensemble was not simple in the slightest, Evey found. She had tried on several different outfits, deciding that some were too formal, and others were too casual. Clothing was strewn about on her bed, and the pile kept growing as Evey kept changing. Finally, she decided on a simple white blouse and a dark pair of jeans. Evey frowned as she put her arm back in the sling; it was very cumbersome, but it certainly made her shoulder feel much better. Slipping on a pair of decent shoes, Evey was about to head to the bathroom to see about her hair and makeup when she heard a knock at the window.

There was only one person who would be knocking at her window in the dark, and her stomach was immediately filled with butterflies. She walked as calmly as she could manage to the window, where she unlocked it and smiled as she let the caped vigilante into her flat. He stepped in gracefully, and Evey smiled as she realized that he did _everything_ gracefully. Why should that surprise her? V caught her smirk:

"Have I done something humorous, my dear?"

"No, no, V. I'm just glad to see you." She smiled as she embraced him. While she was trapped in his arms, V noticed that she was wearing neither her work clothing nor her pajamas, which suggested that she was going out that evening. She looked wonderful, as usual. The blouse flattered her, and the light color made her eyes appear brighter. V wondered what the occasion was, although he was hardly complaining.

"Am I interrupting something, Evey? It would appear as though I have caught you on your way out." Right as V asked this, he realized how suspicious his question must have sounded; almost jealous even. But if Evey thought of it that way, she didn't let on. She had left his embrace at this point, gathering a few pieces of jewelry and her hairbrush, and motioning for him to follow her so that she could continue to talk to him.

He watched her in the mirror, as she managed to put on both of her earrings with the same hand. When she lifted up the necklace she intended to wear, she pursed her lips at it while furrowing her brows. Her current predicament was trying to manage putting on her necklace while wearing her sling. She was about to take it off, something that caused her some discomfort and a great deal of annoyance, when V stepped in:

"Allow me," He said softly. Evey flashed him a coy look in the mirror before dropping the necklace into his outstretched hand. The silver contrasted quite well with the black leather of his glove, in his opinion.

V swiftly draped the chain around her neck before fastening the clasp. The black leather of his gloves contrasted even better with the white, satin blouse she was wearing, and better still with the soft, pale flesh of her neck. Before V could stop himself, he alighted his hands on her shoulders, and he watched as she closed her eyes and sighed. Encouraged, he took a breath and decided to take a risk.

"How is your shoulder feeling?"

Smiling at the implication, Evey played along. "It feels a bit tense; it was rather sore all day."

Behind the mask, V smiled widely at her reaction. With her words as a cue, he began to massage her shoulders and neck with his hands slowly, gently; not wanting to upset her already irritable shoulder. Evey's smile grew wider as he began his massage, and she let out a contended sigh as she felt the warmth of his hands work the tension out of her muscles.

"Is that better, love?" He purred. V caught himself by surprise with his forwardness and confidence. But Evey certainly didn't seem to mind.

"That feels wonderful, V," she replied, leaning back slightly into him.

The moment was not to last, because suddenly, there was a loud buzzing coming from the bathroom sink. Evey's eyes snapped open, and she puffed out a breath of disappointment. She glanced at her phone, which now displayed a small envelope on the screen, indicating that she had received a text message. V was suddenly reminded of his earlier question that remained unanswered. He dropped his hands reluctantly from her shoulders.

"I do believe I am keeping you from a previous engagement." V stepped back, feeling suddenly awkward and uncomfortable. Evey's face turned into a pout. She turned to face him, and frowned.

"Eric invited me over for dinner to talk about the meetings he had today. Apparently he has some news about the rebels who kidnapped me." Evey stated sadly. Now she was wondering if there was any way she could call off dinner with Finch and return to the Gallery like she had originally planned on doing. That was now sounding like the far superior option, especially if V continued with his massage.

V froze. Finch's comments and his actions from the previous evening were now playing like some grand Shakespearean drama in his mind. Surely he had other intentions than discussing politics. And now V wished that Evey had on a different blouse; one that wasn't quite so flattering.

"V? Are you alright?" Evey placed a delicate hand on his arm, which shook him from his thoughts. He quickly moved his arm away from her touch, causing Evey's lips to turn into a worried frown.

"Yes, of course, Evey." When in reality, he was far from alright. Already, the cynical voice in his head was telling him that this was the beginning of the end. After tonight, there were sure to be more dinners. And more "work meetings". It wouldn't take long for Evey to realize that Eric Finch was the man she was looking for, not V. The dark voice at the back of V's mind was already laughing, telling him to just watch Evey slip out of his arms and right into Eric Finch's, and then he would be alone once again, while Evey fell in love with another man. It made sense. It was what she deserved. And V deserved to be alone.

"Are you sure, V? You seem a bit tense." Evey was now becoming quite worried about his sudden change in demeanor.

"Yes, Evey, I'm quite alright. But it appears as though I have made you late, for which I apologize." V then walked down the hallway, with Evey right behind him. V couldn't bear the thought; he desperately needed to be alone, to get away from her before she thrust the dagger any deeper into his heart. He had made it to the window when Evey's voice stopped him short.

"V." Her voice sounded firm, and V was then worried that he had upset her. He turned to face her.

"Come here," She instructed, pointing at the ground in front of her feet. He was powerless; he had to obey. He walked over to her, and waited expectantly.

A smile crept onto her beautiful face, curving her lips in a way V found irresistible. His worries of upsetting her ceased, especially as she wound her arms around him, saying, "You forgot something."

"And what have I forgotten, Evey?" He asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his own lips.

"This."

Evey rose up onto her tip toes and pressed a kiss onto the cold enamel lips of Guy Fawkes. V's breath caught in his throat, and he knew that she heard it. It was like electricity, pulsing through him. It was just like the night in Victoria station, and it was the first time Fawkes had been granted the honor since then. Many would think that he couldn't feel a kiss through his mask; he used to think so as well, but he was delighted to be proven wrong. Oh, how he wished this mask was real flesh and blood so that he could kiss her back.

She dropped back down onto her feet and smiled up at the mask, V's smile matching her own. Evey gazed into the black eye screens, which as usual betrayed no glimmer or emotion, but could still transmit the weight of his gaze.

"I love you, V." She whispered softly to the mask. She buried her face into his warm chest then, and he could feel her smile through his layers of clothing as he whispered, "And I love you, my dear Evey."

She broke apart then, saying, "Oh, V, if I stay here a second more I won't ever make it to dinner."

V smiled behind the mask, while the voice at the back of his head began to shrink away. "Then I shall let you go, I do not wish to make you any later. Enjoy your evening, love."

With that, V stepped easily out of the window and headed down the fire escape. Evey watched until he had disappeared around the corner before shutting the window and rising to leave.

She donned her jacket, and grabbed the brownies she had purchased before grabbing her keys to leave. She sent Eric a quick message apologizing for running so late, but that she was on her way. Once it had sent, Evey headed out into the cool London evening.

* * *

Evey arrived a few minutes late, but Eric didn't seem to mind. He opened the door with a smile, and took Evey's coat once she stepped into his home. He also grabbed the brownies from her hands and led her to the kitchen.

"I hope you don't mind that I bought the brownies. I had absolutely no motivation to bake," Evey said, trying to start up a conversation. Finch had returned to his own cooking, and he looked up from his pot of pasta to smile at her.

"I can hardly blame you for not wanting to bake. I hardly have the patience for it myself." Finch began to strain the pasta, and Evey sat on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter watching. "However, I do enjoy cooking, especially for other people."

Evey smiled, thinking of her masked man, who also enjoyed the same hobby. She wondered if he was preparing something for himself at this moment, since she was not there to share a meal with.

Finch had now finished his final preparations, and he led Evey to his dining room table. He pulled out her chair, and with a smile in thanks she sat. He disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with two steaming plates of pasta, chicken, and vegetables. Placing the plates down, he also went to fetch a bottle of red wine. After pouring them each a glass, he finally took his own seat.

They chatted idly about the progress of the new museum, and Evey complimented Eric's cooking. Finally though, her curiosity could no longer be held at bay.

"Eric, what is the news you were going to tell me earlier? About The Eye, Ear, and Finger?" Evey asked through a bite of chicken.

Eric finished chewing his own bite before he wiped his mouth with a napkin and placed his fork down gently. He had been hoping to enjoy a few more minutes of conversation with Evey that weren't linked directly to their work with Norsefire. Although he valued any conversation with this beautiful woman, he hardly ever had the chance to sit with her and have a simple, casual chat. Shouldn't she enjoy that too? Was everything about work with her? He supposed so, given her connection to the man who started the revolution. Finch let out a sigh.

"Yes, I suppose that _that_ is why you came over this evening."

Evey brought her brows together in concern. Why did he sound so upset all of a sudden? Finch saw her expression go from one of curiosity to one of worry, and he immediately regretted how biting his statement had come out. He cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry Evey, I didn't mean to upset you. But the news I have is both good and bad. Which would you like to hear first?" He asked.

The ease returned to Evey's face. She even laughed as she responded, "Of course I want the good news first."

"Why am I not surprised?" Finch smiled. "As you know, we have detained several of the more high-up party members. Most of these men were actually integral parts to the inner workings of the Ear and the Eye. Interrogations have yielded nothing, because they only wanted to strike a plea deal for information. They have offered to give us the needed schematics, passwords, all that we need to finally shut down the eye and the ear."

Evey frowned. This was very good news, indeed. But she knew that these men were clever and manipulative. It could all very well be a trap; they would provide false, even harmful information in exchange from some plea bargain that they hardly deserved. The cost of this information would be high, she knew.

"Why do I get the feeling that the bad news involves the price of this information?"

Finch sighed, "The highest sentence that any of them have received is life in prison with no chance of parole…"

"They deserve _far_ worse than that," Evey snarled, interrupting him. Finch glanced at her, surprised at her sudden burst of anger. Evey was slightly surprised as well; she realized that that is exactly something V would say. V shouldn't have worried about trying to influence her. He'd done so long ago, when she was still just his captive.

"The best we could do negotiating was thirty five years in prison with no chance of early release. Evey, think about it. Most of these men are in their fifties or even sixties. Thirty five years will essentially become a life sentence for most of these men, assuming they last that long in prison." Finch reasoned.

Evey hissed out a breath before nodding. He was completely correct, she knew. And for the information that they were giving, it was completely worth the trade off. This was the key to completely freeing the English people; with the Ear and the Eye gone, there were no longer any remnants of Norsefire to haunt and torment the people of this country.

"You're right Eric. And that's wonderful news. We'll finally be free of Norsefire, once and for all."

"Almost." Finch reminded her sadly. He thought it was interesting that she had seemed to almost forget the very people who had kidnapped her, just days previous. "The Finger is still out there."

This gave Evey pause. Hadn't V and Eric taken care of those who had kidnapped her? "Eric, what are you talking about? You and V took care of them when you saved me." The thought of her captors still being at large was only slightly unnerving to Evey; she wasn't scared, so much as she was angry. They were a threat that needed to be dealt with swiftly.

"I was just as surprised as you are when I found out at my meetings earlier. But all of our intelligence has lead us to several other cells operating under X. You shouldn't worry too much, Evey. The cells are weakening as we speak. Many of the rebels don't think this is all worth the risk and are assimilating back into the population." He explained.

It was typical of these cowards to give up, Evey thought, although the news was encouraging. She sat back in her chair, having finished her meal, and now idly sipped at her glass of wine. Finch had finished his own meal, and rose to collect their plates. Evey insisted on helping him clean up, to which he grudgingly agreed. Their happy, unimportant chatter picked up as Evey and Eric began to wash the dishes together, Finch washing while Evey dried.

"Now tell me Eric. How on earth did you decide that Ms. Hayes would be a good secretary?" Evey chuckled. She glanced up from the plate she was drying and noticed that Finch's face had immediately fallen. Evey put down her plate and put a hand on his shoulder in concern.

"Eric?"

Finch had hoped to talk about the issue with her secretary another day, seeing as how they were having such a lovely evening. He didn't want to plague her mind with any more worries; he knew she had enough of them already. But how could he hide something like this from her?

"Eric, what's wrong? Have I said something?" Evey was concerned that she had upset her friend. She scolded herself; they were having such an enjoyable night.

"Evey, I really didn't want to tell you this until I knew you were feeling better. But I suppose I have no choice. Why don't we go sit in the parlor?" With that, they abandoned the dishes, Evey's worry growing with every step she took behind Eric.

They sat side by side on the couch, and Eric turned to face her. "I feel awful about this Evey, I really do. But you should know that I hired Ms. Hayes as a replacement for Melinda."

Evey stared at him impatiently, "Well I already knew that, Eric."

"But you don't know why Melinda had to be replaced," Eric took a deep breath before continuing. "Melinda was a spy for X. That's how the rebels even go up to your office; she let them up. She told them that you and I would be having the meeting that day, which is why they attacked when they did."

Evey felt as though a ton of bricks had been dropped on her. How could Melinda, sweet, bright, happy, eager Melinda be a spy? She was the last person she would ever accuse of being a spy, save for V of course. She had never for a second questioned this girl's loyalty. She loved her job, or so it had seemed. How could she do this? Why would she do this, and help these men?

"But Melinda…she…why would she do this?" Evey was suddenly overwhelmed. A hot tear slid down her cheek, and her kidnapping, injuries, stress, and betrayal all finally caught up to her. More tears followed suit, and that made Evey even more upset.

Finch saw Evey's grip on her emotions slowly faltering; he kicked himself for causing her such distress. He placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, trying to calm her down.

"Evey, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have ruined your evening." Finch soothed.

Through her tears, Evey managed a weak, unconvincing smile. "No Eric, you haven't. I'm just-overwhelmed, is all. You shouldn't have to deal with me when I'm such a mess."

Eric almost laughed; he would have dealt with her no matter what state she was in. Such were his feelings for this woman who sat crying next to him. All he wanted to do was comfort her and provide for her.

"It's alright, Evey. You don't have to be strong all the time. You can let someone take care of you every once and again. No one is invincible." Evey raised her head to look at him and she actually managed a convincing smile this time. Finch returned it, and it only grew when Evey wrapped her arms around him.

"Eric, I don't know what I would do without a friend like you. Thank you for putting up with me tonight."

"It's my pleasure. Perhaps we should sample some of the brownies you brought." Finch suggested, reluctantly drawing Evey up and out of his arms. Evey nodded, and went with him into the kitchen to fetch them.

Once she had a brownie and a few more sips of wine, Evey was feeling much better. She could worry about all of the political obligations tomorrow, and for now, she was determined to enjoy the rest of her evening with a close friend. They didn't mention work once after her outburst of tears, but rather of their pasts. Finch told her some of the stories of his childhood; playing pranks on his brothers back in Ireland and his move to London. Evey was more fascinated with his tales of his home country. She had always wanted to travel, but with Norsefire in control, she'd never been able to. Finch painted a picture of the beautiful green place of his birth, describing as best he could the town he grew up in, in order to help Evey imagine what it was like there.

Evey mostly listened, as most of her childhood memories were not as pleasant. But she enjoyed herself immensely. Soon the brownies were nearly gone, and Eric had reached a point in his own story where the events that took place began to darken. It was nearly nine o'clock, and Evey suddenly found herself yawning.

"You're certainly a wonderful story teller, Eric. You've convinced me to go to Ireland; perhaps you should reconsider your career as a politician and consider becoming a travel agent." Evey teased. They laughed together for a few moments, and then Evey finally rose to leave. "I've had a wonderful evening, Eric. Thank you for having me over."

Finch rose with her, saying, "The pleasure was all mine, Evey. We should do it again soon, but with different circumstances. I hate talking about work after hours."

"Of course. Next time I'll make more of an effort with baking." She smiled in return.

Finch walked her to the door and helped her into her coat. He watched her patiently, and she finally turned her gaze back onto him. Her warm, hazel eyes were utterly arresting, and Finch almost forgot what he had been planning on saying all evening. He coughed then, to knock the lodge out of his throat.

"Evey, I had a wonderful time tonight," He started. "You're an incredible woman, I hope you know that."

Evey snorted, "What are you buttering me up for, exactly?" Her smile was easy, but in her mind she was beginning to grow apprehensive. Eric laughed nervously. His heart was beating twice it normal rate; he prayed she couldn't hear it.

"Why don't you let me take you out to dinner, Evey? Nothing work related, just you and me, together." He finally managed to blurt out. It was certainly not as suave and calm as he would have liked, but he had managed it none the less. Here he was, putting himself out on the line.

Evey's smile fell from her face, taking Eric's right along with it. How could she not have seen this? She was a complete idiot; and she kicked herself for not realizing Eric's intentions earlier. She couldn't bear the thought of hurting him. But didn't he realize that her heart already belonged to someone else?

"Eric, you know that I have the utmost respect for you. You're one of my closest friends, and we've been through so much together. I would never want to put our friendship in jeopardy, nor would I want to jeopardize our working relationship. We're a wonderful team, and if anything happened to that, I fear what it would do to the revolution." Evey tried to put him down as gently as possible; she truly didn't want to damage their friendship or professionalism. Surely he would understand her motives. And he must also understand how bad it would look to the people; it would be like the new government was built on favoritism, not actual political process.

Finch sighed. He knew that she would use their professional relationship against him, as well as their friendship. But at the same time, he knew that her reasons were fair. He just suspected that they weren't _all_ of her reasons. That was when he realized. It was so obvious; he should have seen it from day one.

Evey was in love with V. He should have seen it sooner, and now he was making a complete fool of himself. However, it did ease her rejection. He knew that V was someone that would take care of Evey as he wished to.

"I understand, Evey. I really hope that this doesn't change anything," He said softly. Understand? Yes, he understood. But that didn't change the fact that he was hurt.

"Of course it won't, Eric. We'll always be friends. You've helped me so much; I really couldn't imagine life without you as my friend." She smiled.

"I feel the same way, Evey." He smiled back, although with not as much enthusiasm. Once he had returned her smile, she gave him a quick hug before thanking him again for dinner. She turned to go, and her hand was just resting on the doorknob when Finch's voice stopped her.

"I'm glad that V is back in your life, Evey."

Evey looked back, shocked. It was not as though she had gone and announced her relationship with V to the world. To her knowledge, Finch was the only person besides her that even knew he was alive. But all Finch did was smile knowingly at her, and they both knew that everything would be fine.

**A/N Woohoo, back from vaycay! Let me begin by saying that you all are amazing. I came back and I was peeing my pants with joy when I saw all of the reviews, favorites, and follows that happened while I was gone! You guys are the best! (Keep it up, huh? ;D)**

** Well, this certainly took a different direction than what I had originally planned, but I think it was a change for the better. (And now I can cut out some unnecessary stuff and get to the good stuff! Woohoo!) The V/Evey fluff kind of took me by surprise, but it was a happy accident as they say! **

** Loboscha I hope this answered your question ;) But I definitely do NOT nor will I EVER ship the Finch/Evey stuff, but hey, we gotta add a little flair. But V was obviously going to win that, it wasn't even a choice! ;D Thanks so much for all of the reviews you left me, it made me so happy! **

** Destiel Junkie I want those roses dammit. But alas, I actually have a plan for that that will be happening within the next 2-3 chapters, that I hope you will be equally happy with! **

**Your reviews are like little gold nuggets of happiness that feed my inbox, and my soul. Always feel free to leave reviews or pm me! R&R my lovelies, an update in the next few days that I am excited to write out! **


	10. Chapter 10

**As promised, enjoy!**

Chapter 10

Several days after her dinner with Eric, things were beginning to settle down once again at work. Eric had stopped by a few times to give her updates on the negotiations, and their easy going friendship hadn't changed in the slightest, which relieved Evey. Her work now consisted of organizing different events, and rehearsing her latest address to the people. The last few nights, she had actually left when she was supposed to, and was able to spend some of those evenings in the gallery with V.

Tonight was going to be one of those nights, although V didn't know that yet. Evey smiled mischievously; she had been planning a surprise visit to the gallery all day long, and it had admittedly become distracting to her work.

Her plan was to head first to her flat after work, as she would any other night. She had always suspected that V followed her home ever since she found out that he was alive. This would give the illusion of a normal evening; and V would return to the gallery shortly after she had returned home. This would give her the opportunity she needed to sneak her way down to the gallery and surprise him.

Evey had made it home with little incident. The entire way home she forced herself to not keep looking over her shoulder lest she arouse V's suspicions. Preparing herself a glass of tea, Evey decided that she would wait for at least twenty minutes before embarking on her own secret mission. As she sat sipping her tea, Evey flipped on the tele to watch the evening news. She was quite shocked when she saw that it was Philip's cheerful, handsome face staring back at her.

She had caught the tail end of the news program, and only heard Philip's final statement:

"It is wonderful to be back, April. And we hope you join us again tomorrow evening, London." He flashed a debonair smile to the camera, before it switched over to commercial. Evey smiled widely; when she had offered the position to Gordon at the BTN, she had been curious as to whether or not Philip would return to his old job as well. Gordon would certainly hire him again, had he asked. It delighted her to know that she had two very reliable people working for her to deliver the truth to London.

The comedy sketches that were now coming on hardly piqued Evey's interest, but she watched them nonetheless to pass the time. The tea in her cup was now gone, and deciding that it would be another distraction, Evey headed to the kitchen to wash it and put it up with its matching set.

The kitchen was in far greater disarray than Evey expected, but she recalled leaving a mess that morning before heading off to work. It would eat up more of her time to tidy up the small kitchen. She set herself to work, humming lightly to herself while the tele's noise played quietly in the background. It was a quiet, peaceful evening, and Evey was glad to have a moment of calm.

Finally the kitchen was clean and the twenty minutes that she had forced herself to wait had ticked away. With a smile at the clock, thanking it for hurrying up, Evey slipped on her jacket and made her way out the door.

It was not a long walk to the closest underground station; no, the difficulty came in ensuring that no one noticed her comings and goings into the tunnels. Evey usually didn't use this closer station, as it was in such a populated area, where people were constantly bustling about unless it was late in the evening. Her preferred station was a longer walk, but it was in a far quieter neighborhood, and the entrance was well disguised. That was the route she would take tonight.

As she walked, she saw many children running about in the streets and couples out strolling hand in hand. Faces were smiling, and people were at ease. The change that had been brought about since the fifth of November never failed to amaze her. Many people who saw her waved; not necessarily because they recognized her, but because they were content.

Evey finally reached her desired station, and as inconspicuously as she could possibly manage, she slipped into the abandoned underground. It was dark, as the power had been cut years ago. V had restored power in certain areas of the tunnels for his own use, but this was not one of them. So Evey carried a torch with her, which illuminated the path in front of her.

It thrilled Evey to walk on the tracks. There was a false sense of danger about it that Evey found immensely attractive. It reminded her of the old cowboy movies when the dame would be tied to the tracks, although she hardly considered herself one to play that part. She knew that the only train that had run down here lately was the one that had started the revolution; she had no fear of being struck by a train.

Evey hopped from tie to tie, trying her best to balance when her landings were wobbly. She laughed when this happened, pretending that she was just a young child again. It certainly was something a child would do given the chance. One of her other entertainments was walking on the metal railing, sticking her arms out dramatically as if she were a tightrope walker. It brought a smile to her face to imagine V's reaction to such childish endeavors.

Finally the track gave way to a maintenance tunnel, which twisted and turned until it finally reached the Shadow Gallery. Evey smiled wickedly at the thought of sneaking up on V, although she doubted that she would ever be fully successful. It would not take V's superior hearing long to pick up on her footsteps, no matter how lightly she tread. She wouldn't put it past V to also have motion detection alarms set up. That gave Evey pause; she'd never considered that possibility, which really would make it impossible to sneak up on him. Shaking her head, she continued on, not wanting to let the possibility of failure deter her.

Finally the entrance to the Gallery appeared. It was camouflaged excellently, and unless one knew where to look, it would be impossible to find. A crack ran up the wall and into a pipe. To the average citizen, they would assume it was just an old crack due to years of neglect and lack of structural integrity. However, to the more trained observer, they could run their hands up the long fissure and find a deep impression towards the top, which gave way to a handle. Its hinge was also well hidden inside of a fake pipe. It truly was an ingenious design, born from both incredible engineering, genius, and a healthy dose of paranoia.

Evey threw open the false door, and expected to find V either waiting for her in the foyer, or to walk in herself and find him busy at work in the kitchen. But to her surprise, neither of her predictions was proven correct. Her second guess was to check his chaise lounge, and then his study. But he wasn't in any of those places.

"V?" She called out. No answer. Evey was suddenly struck with how little she knew about the Gallery, which had been both her home and her prison. V could be hiding anywhere in the Gallery; she had no idea how far it expanded. With her hands on her hips and her mouth turned up in a pout, Evey let out a sigh. Where could he be?

"Well V, you told me no more locked doors. You might end up regretting that choice." She smiled deviously. Yes, now would be a perfect time to go exploring the Gallery, and even better, she had the perfect excuse should she be caught.

She started out her search for V by going down a long corridor that she didn't recognize. She avoided that large, wooden door that she knew led to her prison. She doubted that V would be in there, and she had no desire to return to the painful memories that those rooms would evoke. The hallway she had gone down had two doors at the end. She opened the one on the right and her mouth fell open. The room was enormous, but that wasn't what Evey found so shocking. No, the size she had come to expect. The walls were what shocked her. They were completely covered in weaponry of every description: knives, daggers, swords, guns of multiple calibers, and even some medieval clubs. Evey smirked when she saw a very old ball and chain; it was completely like V to bring in such historical artifacts to even his store of weaponry. The floors were covered in mats, and some dummies were lined up against the far wall. Evey realized that this wasn't just a storage room; it was a training room.

It made sense, really. V had to hone his skills somewhere; gallivanting around the streets of London wielding knives was not something V would do without proper practice. This must have been the place V disappeared to often during her stays here; she didn't know, because she had been too terrified to find out.

She left then, once she saw that V was nowhere in sight. The door clicked softly after her, and she turned to the room opposite the one she had just entered. The door was identical; thick, dark mahogany that had been adorned with intricate carvings. Evey pushed it open, and had her breath taken away once again. The room was identical in shape and size, but the use of this room was the polar opposite of the previous. It was an underground greenhouse; she was hit with the warm, welcoming air and aroma of dirt and flowers. She laughed; it was incredible. Why had V never shown her this before? Evey strolled down the aisles of flowers and crops, taking note at how carefully it had all been cared for. It shouldn't surprise her in the least that V was very meticulous with a garden; he was meticulous about everything he did.

No, it was the contrast that Evey was having trouble gripping. Here, in this room, life thrived. V had brought life to the darkest of places, where it should not be able to thrive. He was caring and completely devoted to this garden; it was obvious. But it sat directly opposite a room that was built for the sole purpose of enabling a man to end life just as he cultivated it. That was where he had practiced the skills he needed to commit violent, vicious crimes. Justified crimes, but violent ones nonetheless. Evey came to the realization that these were the two halves of V that he was trying to force together and cohabitate within himself. One half was loving and nurturing; this was the charismatic persona that he always presented to Evey. Yet the other half was one capable of unthinkable violence and ferocity; she had seen this half of him before, and the trail that this half often left in its wake. Did V struggle with these two selves? Evey couldn't be sure. But she was sure of one thing: that she loved the whole man that the two halves made up.

Sighing again at having not produced V, Evey turned to leave. Perhaps this was even better than she had anticipated. Now she could surprise him once he returned from wherever he had gone. With that happy thought, Evey walked back into the main room of the gallery and found one of her favorite Shakespeare plays, Twelfth Night. She smiled as she opened up to a random page, and read aloud, "O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O, stay and hear; your true love's coming." She smirked at how well it seemed to fit the moment. V would tell her that the passage's appearance was no coincidence.

Plopping herself down onto the chaise, Evey began to read from that point. Although she didn't have close to the encyclopedic mind of V, she did know exactly what was happening at the point she opened up to. Evey settled herself down, and grabbed a blanket to keep the cool of the Shadow Gallery at bay. The words began to work into her mind, their lilt and tone soothing her. She hadn't realized that she was so tired. Try as she might to fight against it, Evey could not keep sleep at bay, and her eyes soon fell closed, while the book rested on her lap.

Hours later, a rather loud "thunk" startled Evey from her slumber. She bolted upright from the couch, thinking that there was an intruder. Once she realized that she was still in the Gallery, however, she realized that it must be V returning. She cast a sideways glance to the entrance, where she thought V ought to be. But she was disappointed, and she was still alone. It was now clear that the loud noise that had roused her from her slumber was nothing more than Twelfth Night falling to the floor as she readjusted in her sleep.

Evey did rise and stretch, deciding that there was little chance of her falling back to sleep. The clock now read half past midnight, and Evey gasped at how late it had gotten. V surely had returned by now, but didn't want to wake her, being the gentleman he was.

"V?" Evey called out softly. She was aware that if he was in fact here at the gallery, he might be sleeping as well. Yet something told her that that wouldn't be the case, so she called out a few more times. With no answer, Evey made another walk through the Gallery, which yielded no results.

Evey knew that V could take care of himself; she had never met anyone more capable of doing so in her life. But it seems that if he was out playing vigilante, he would have told her so. And she felt certain that V would have returned before midnight. She couldn't help but worry; something felt wrong.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the girl hidden underground, V actually was out "playing vigilante". V had certainly been busy all day, living up to that role. And now a day full of research, hacking, and surveillance had turned into a new mission. V was buzzing with anticipation.

He had spent his day gathering new information about Organization X. He knew from the news Evey had given him several days ago that there were multiple cells operating under the one organization. The scum that they had taken down when Evey was kidnapped was only a part of the operation. X was like Hydra, a mythical Greek serpent. When one head is chopped off, two more pop up to take its place.

After much digging, V was able to pull up something very promising. His search had produced the time and location of a meeting going on between two men within the organization. It was happening behind closed doors in one of the government's surveillance offices, of all places. This information had led V to two conclusions. The first conclusion being that this had to be a meeting of very important people within the rebel organization; this wouldn't be a meeting for the average thug. The second conclusion that V reached was one that he hoped to be proved wrong on, but highly doubted he would be. If the meeting was taking place in one of the new government buildings, which meant that one of these men had to be working with the fledgling government. V had discovered a mole.

The very thought that someone was already working against the government from the inside was enraging. And it was also unforgivable. He'd wasted no time in preparing, gathering his knives and polishing his boots for the occasion. For the briefest moment, V considered bringing each of these men a rose, but he banished that idea. He had said so himself that he didn't want to influence this new world, as a relic of one gone by. He realized that killing these men would seem very influential, but adding the roses would increase that by tenfold. Not to mention that it but his façade of death at risk.

So he had set out once darkness had fallen and the streets had emptied. He was surprised that more people weren't out enjoying the freedom of having no curfew, but he supposed that old habits die hard. He of all people should know that. The lack of citizens did however make his job a lot easier. He did not have to spend much time avoiding people as he thought he would have.

The building in question was the new surveillance agency, which is actually where he had gotten most of his information regarding the rebel activities. For the most part, the windows were all dark. V counted three windows that still had lights on, but he assumed that at this hour, it would only be the cleaning crew. However, there was a light on the highest floor, which according to the building's blueprints, was where the conference room was. V waited for almost twenty minutes as he waited for the last two lights to shut off. Then, he made his move.

His research had told him that there was a side door, which was where the cleaning crew entered and exited the building. It would be locked, of course, but V had never encountered a lock that he could not either pick, or simply break open.

He approached the door, and found that it had actually been propped open by one of the janitors, who he presumed was making his final rounds of the building before heading home for the night. He slipped inside, walking through the darkened hallways as if he was nothing more than a ghost. The elevator would alert the men of his presence, so he opted for the stairwell. For many people, climbing up the ten flights of stairs would prove a challenge at any speed. But with V's incredible musculature and physical endurance, it was nothing as he ran quickly up them.

V eased the door slowly open and peered into the hallway. It was abandoned, as he had expected, and so he crept silently from the stairwell down the hall. V rounded a corner, and saw light pouring out of a room. Voices also floated out of the doorway, which V had no trouble hearing.

"You'd better be bringing me some good news, Michael. You have no idea the risks I'm taking in having this meeting here." The first voice hissed. "It's getting harder and harder for me to steer the cops in the wrong direction."

The second man, Michael, spoke up softly, "M-Mr. Listler, we need more resources if we're to pull off the plan…" He was cut off.

"You think I'm going to give you filthy leeches _more_ money? I gave you far more than enough last time; it isn't my problem that you all keep it for yourselves rather than use it to your advantage." The man seethed.

V had stopped listening at this point; it was exactly as he had feared. It was not some paper-pusher or simply an agent who was acting as the mole. This went all the way to the top: Mr. Listler, or George Listler, was the newly appointed director of the surveillance agency. Everyone had the highest regards for this man; he was young, ambitious, and handsome, and he appeared to be completely dedicated to the revolution. Evey had even admired his leadership abilities and was completely supportive of his promotion to director. This made V all the angrier.

His intentions were simple enough; kill the man that was meeting with Listler, as he was nothing but a cowardly worm. Listler, however, would first have to answer some questions before he was dispatched.

Part of V realized that killing this man was going against everything Evey was trying to do; and it made him a hypocrite. Yes, killing the director of England's surveillance agency was certainly not the way to remain uninvolved in the new world taking shape. But if this man saw him and lived, everything would be for naught. This man had the answers that V needed to take down an entire terrorist organization; wasn't that justification enough?

For V, it was. The men were now arguing heatedly, and V saw this as his opportunity to strike, as his prey would be distracted and less likely to react. He strode out from his hiding place and drew out a single knife, meant for the weasel who was meeting with Listler.

V was already drawing his arm back to release by the time he finally stepped into the doorway. The second he saw the fingerman, his arm snapped forward and the blade found its mark in the man's chest. A dark red stain blossomed on the front of his shirt, and he coughed up a few droplets of blood before collapsing on the floor.

At this point, V had been counting on Listler being in a panic. He turned nonchalantly towards to man, ready to let the man suffer and squirm as he approached. However, he had not been counting on Listler to be armed with a gun. The man who stood before him was not only standing firm, he was even smirking. Before V could even unsheathe one of his blades, there was a deafening crack as the gun went off. White hot pain erupted in V's thigh, and he stumbled backwards. He was only distracted for a moment, as he lost his balance. If this man thought that taking a single bullet to the leg would stop V, he was sorely mistaken. Not even Creedy's men, with hundreds of bullets couldn't bring him down. But V's initial stumble had given the man the time he needed to throw open a window and run down the fire escape.

V gritted his teeth; yes, he may have taken many bullets before, and his pain tolerance was far above any man's, but it was still quite painful to get shot. He propelled himself towards the window, and was about to follow Listler when he suddenly heard sirens approaching. The silhouette of a man ran out into the street below and around a corner. V swore. If he stayed any longer, he would have difficulty avoiding the police. But he had let the bastard get away, and he was completely incensed.

With waves of fury rolling off of him, V swung out onto the fire escape. The shock of landing reverberated all the way up his leg, causing his fresh bullet wound to burn in protest. Oh, yes, once he caught up with Mr. Listler, he would pay dearly for this.

But for now, he stalked down the London streets, staying to the shadows. The first thing he had to do was make it back to the Gallery and see to his fresh wound.

"I had hoped that I had seen my fair share of bullet wounds. But I suppose Madam Fate had other ideas," V hissed under his breath. Once his injury was taken care of, he had plenty of work to do in finding out everything he possibly could about George Listler and his connections to Organization X. V continued to fume his entire way home.

* * *

When V stormed into the Gallery as best he could, given his current state, he was so angry that he almost didn't notice the small, messy-haired girl that sat on the chaise lounge. Almost. He glanced up in time to see her head whip around to find the source of the sudden commotion. Black screens met hazel eyes.

"Evey?" V gasped in shock. What on earth was Evey doing down in the gallery at this time of night? He'd told her several times before to not take such risks when coming to see him. Had something happened to her? Is that why she come down here to seek him out? "Is everything alright?"

Evey laughed aloud at how ludicrous his statement was. This seemed to put V slightly more at ease. "Is everything alright? V, that's something that I should be asking you. Where have you been all night?" She rose to greet him.

V was rooted to the spot. From her vantage point on the chaise, she hadn't seen the blood streaming freely through his pant leg, and V wanted to keep it that way. He truly did not need her worrying about this mundane injury; she'd already worried about it once before. V was trapped, though. Evey had already gotten up from the chaise lounge, and was making her way over to him. If he moved, his limp or the light would surely betray him. So he stood paralyzed, hoping that she wouldn't notice.

Unfortunately for V, however, Evey was very perceptive. The moment she had walked around the chaise, her hand flew to her face and a small gasp escaped her lips.

"V, you're bleeding!" She cried, rushing over to him. Evey searched his face, but all she was rewarded with was Guy Fawkes' laughing smile. How she hated that mask at times.

"Once again, I must yield to your powers of observation." V quipped, trying to ease her own worries.

"V now is not the time for jokes! You've been _shot!_" Evey yelled up at him. "Oh, V, we have to stop the bleeding. Take off your trousers; I have to see to your wound." Evey looked up expectantly, and didn't understand why V had suddenly become rigid until he had cleared his throat to speak:

"Is this your way of romancing me, my dear Evey?" He hoped that disguising his nerves in humor would help diffuse the situation and calm Evey down. Behind the mask, V smiled as he watched Evey's reaction. A furious blush had crawled up her neck and onto her cheeks, and she glared up at him.

"I'll apologize for that later, once your _gunshot_ wound has been properly taken care of." She put plenty of emphasis on the word "gunshot".

V chuckled then, which only seemed to agitate Evey all the more. V took her hand and gently ran his thumb over her knuckles. His tone grew serious as he said, "Evey, who do you think removed all of Creedy's bullets? Surely you haven't been entertaining the idea of me going to a hospital. Over the years, I have acquired many useful skills. I can see to the wound myself, although I appreciate your concern."

Evey pursed her lips then; of course it made sense that V would pull bullets out of his own chest and suture gaping holes in his own flesh. She knew what he was trying so desperately to hide underneath the mask and layers of black; he would never allow a stranger to see what lay beneath. And if she admitted it, she doubted she could be much help to him in removing bullets and stitching wounds. Still wanting to help him, Evey asked if there was anything he needed.

"My dear, your presence alone is more help to me than you can imagine." With that, V made his way to his bedroom, which led into the room he reserved for medical problems. It was well stocked with anything he might need: pain killers, sutures, tweezers, gauzes, etc. This is also where V kept his special medications and lotions for his skin. The room itself was nothing more than a converted bathroom, but was harsh, sterile white tile all around. It wasn't nearly as spacious and welcoming as the master bath, which had both a tub and a shower. This only had a small shower.

V gathered his needed supplies, including a change of clothes from his bedroom. After he had everything that he needed, V removed his bloodied trousers and discarded them. In order to more clearly see his wound, he also removed the mask and wig, leaving him completely vulnerable. Blood was still oozing out of the wound, although it had slowed considerably. V wiped up as much of the blood as he could so that he could more easily remove the bullet.

The long pair of forceps that V had selected for this job dug deep into his burnt flesh. V gritted his teeth in pain and let out a sharp hiss of pain once he finally managed to grip the offending bullet and slowly extract it. He could feel it grinding up against his nerves, which screamed in protest. Finally, the steel pellet was completely removed, and V dropped in unceremoniously onto a small metal tray that he had prepared.

Before stitching the wound closed, V made another pass at the entry site to mop up the blood that had accumulated. The bleeding was beginning to slow once again, V's incredible capacity for healing was already starting to kick in. V smiled grimly; yes, the virus that had ruined his life and hundreds of thousands of others, had also given him a new life. The virus had heightened his senses, and had given him incredible strength, endurance, and of course healing ability and pain tolerance. The latter two had lately been very useful.

For V, stitches had never caused him pain, due to the burns that had scarred and toughened his skin. It did, however, make stitches more difficult, due to the thickness of the scar tissue. The sutures took V only minutes to take care of, and once he had finally finished, the gently wiped the site with alcohol to help prevent infection. Once that had been taken care of, he wrapped up the injury in a gauze bandage and dressed. The mask and wig returned to their usual positions, and with a final check in the mirror, V stepped out into main rooms of the Gallery, trying his best to hide his limp.

Evey was now sitting on the chaise lounge, perfectly straight with her legs crossed neatly in front of her. While V had gone off to tend to his wounds, she had felt completely useless. Her nerves were getting the better of her, and so she decided to make some tea to give herself something, _anything _to do to distract her from the fact that V was yards away, stitching up a gunshot wound while she just sat.

She had boiled enough water for both of them, but left V's teacup on the kitchen counter to steep. If V wanted the tea, which she suspected he might, she knew that he would not take it in front of her. So to make things easier for both of them, she decided to take just her cup into the living room and wait.

Finally, V emerged from his chambers, and had Evey not known previously, she would not have noticed his slight limp. She gently set her cup down and rushed over to see that he was alright. Standing in front of him, she mentally cursed the mask for not letting her read his true expression. But based on the tilt of his head, which she had come to read most of his emotions through, suggested that he was curious of all things.

"V, are you alright? It was so quiet, I'd begun to worry you had died of blood loss." Evey asked with a half-hearted laugh.

"Of course, Evey. It would take far more than a single bullet wound to slow me."

Evey had questions swirling around in her head that she had been dying to ask him the second he had returned to her. But she could wait just a little while longer, just to savor this man's company and give him time to relax.

"Why don't a pick out a movie to watch?" Evey suggested, making her way over to V's massive collection of movies. "I made some tea for you; it's sitting on the counter steeping. I wasn't sure if you would take milk in it."

V recognized her gesture, and was warmed by how thoughtful it was. Evey had known full well why V did not ever share meals or afternoon tea with him. But rather than explicitly say that, and use that as a reason, she had tried her utmost to make it as ordinary and normal for him as possible. He smiled beneath the mask; what had he done to deserve someone so caring and understanding?

"Thank you, Evey. A cup of tea is just what the doctor ordered." He smiled beneath the mask.

Evey smiled as well, saying, "I'll pick out something for us to watch." She already knew exactly what they were going to watch, but she would pretend to take her time deliberating over her selection. It would be the first time they had watched The Count of Monte Cristo since the first time she had ever seen the movie. However, now Evey could quote along almost as well as V from all of the times she watched it when they were apart.

V was quick with his tea, having a feeling that Evey already had a movie in mind. The tea was both soothing and warming, and once V had donned Guy Fawkes once more, he walked out to greet Evey in a considerably better mood. He had decided that he would take care of his research once Evey had gone to bed, so that he wouldn't cause her any further distress. He would tell her, of course, but she didn't need to witness him fuming at his computer.

V found Evey sitting comfortably on the large, chaise lounge, remote in hand. She heard him enter the room and had swiveled her head to the side to flash him a welcoming smile. V sat next to her on the chaise, careful to keep his injured leg on the far side of her. Once he was settled, Evey cautiously moved closer to him, wary of making him nervous or uncomfortable. She knew that it would take V time to get used to this sort of relationship, but she would be by his side the entire time. V seemed to be quite content with her resting her head in the crook of his arm while he carefully draped his arm around her. Evey smiled at the reception of her advance.

She sat there for a moment, smiling, grateful beyond words that this man next to her hadn't been taken away yet again. Evey wasn't sure what she would have done had he been killed. With a happy sigh, she knew that she wouldn't have to think about that any longer. She was about to click "play" on the remote, but the questions that she had been holding back were still whirling around in her head.

V could hear the wheels turning in Evey's head, and he could only guess that she was curious as to what had transpired that night. His suspicions were proven correct when Evey turned her powerful gaze up towards the mask, curiosity lighting up in her eyes.

"What happened, V? I can't stand not knowing any longer." Evey asked quietly.

With a sigh, V shifted his position to ease the growing pressure in his injury and bring Evey all the more closer. He wondered how Evey would take the news of Listler's betrayal, although he was certain it wouldn't be taken well. So he told her of the research and surveillance he had been doing, which had led him to that night's meeting.

"Two men were in the conference room; one, a rebel fingerman. The other was a man from the surveillance agency itself." V stated carefully.

Evey snapped herself upright; her expression was a mixture of anger and concern. Along with the news of Melinda's betrayal, Evey suddenly doubted the very foundation of the government she was trying to create. How many people were actually working against her?

"Who?" Evey whispered. She prayed that it was nobody significant, but she highly doubted that.

The mask dropped slightly, knowing that this would be devastating news. "Director George Listler." V stated simply. V watched as Evey took a deep breath of air and slowly released it. She did this several times to calm herself before she opened her eyes once more and brought her gaze onto V.

"Did you kill him?" She asked, knowing that V could have done so in an instant. Was she hoping that he had? She couldn't tell.

"No."

Evey was slightly surprised that he hadn't ended this man's life on the spot, given his crimes and his betrayal. He was putting V's revolution at risk; certainly that warranted death by V's own hand.

"What happened to him?"

"He escaped after I killed the man he was meeting with. That was when he managed to get off his one poorly aimed shot." He said. V was still so angry with himself that he chose not to describe how really, it had been his own arrogance that had landed the bullet in his leg and led to this man's escape. His blood began to boil at the very thought of it.

"What a nightmare," Evey began. "I don't even know who I can trust anymore. First Melinda and now George. Next thing you know, Gordon will turn up as a spy!" Evey threw up her hands in exasperation. After her sudden burst of emotion, Evey slumped back down and leaned against V as she had done before. She was tired, and V realized how very late it was. He had kept her waiting, he realized.

"Evey, you're tired…" V started.

Evey shook her head vehemently. "No. You are not sending me off to bed. I want to watch this movie with you. I want to have an hour and a half of not thinking of anything. I'll call Finch first thing in the morning and give him this information. But for now, I just want to stay here, with you."

Her sudden determination brought a smile to the man behind the mask, and he brought her closer to his side. Although he was quite unaccustomed to this sort of contact, and admittedly a little nervous, V _was_ enjoying the warmth of Evey curled into his side. And her declaration of wanting to remain in this position made it all the sweeter.

"Alright, Evey, if that is what you wish."

With a triumphant smile and a yawn, Evey turned to the screen and hit play. The opening credits of her selection, The Count of Monte Cristo, brought another grin to V. He had not watched this is some time, as he had either been cooped up in his hidden bunker, or too busy tracking down rebels.

"An excellent selection, love." V complimented.

"I haven't seen it in ages; I've been so busy. I came down earlier tonight to surprise you, so that we could watch it together." Evey admitted, feeling almost childish.

The fact that his beloved Evey Hammond had wanted to sneak down underground, into the darkest part of London, just to surprise him was positively heart melting. A smile that rivaled that of Fawkes found its way to his face as he looked down onto the woman who lay curled up in his arms.

He watched as Evey slowly reached up and rested one of her petite hands on the cold cheek of the mask. "I told you to be careful. And I meant it. I don't want to lose you again, V." She raised herself up the rest of the way, then, to present the mask with a kiss.

The electric shock was still just as powerful as ever, and it left V weak. It coursed through his entire body, and he felt its lingering effects for minutes after. After Evey retreated with a soft smile, V stroked her cheek with his leather-clad hand.

"Absence from those we love is self from self-a deadly banishment." V quoted from the Master.

Evey smiled wistfully, "That's Shakespeare."

"Very good, love."

Then Evey squirmed a little closer and directed her focus at the screen, where Edmund Dantes' adventures were just beginning. She yawned, and her eyes began to droop. Evey desperately fought against the weight of sleep that was beginning to grip her, but it was useless.

About half way through the movie, Evey's breathing had become regulated enough to suggest that she was in a deep enough sleep to be moved. Slowly, V stood, never letting Evey's drooping head fall. He swept her up into his arms easily, as if she weighed nothing, and carried her off to the bedroom she had used in the Gallery.

He laid her down gently, and wrapped blankets around her. As he left, he watched her for a moment while she slept peacefully. It reminded him of the night he had saved her from Jordan Tower. But perhaps, in retrospect, it was she that had saved him.

**A/N**

**I am extremely pleased with how this chapter turned out! But I also thought it was awesome that right before I uploaded my tenth chapter, this story hit 1000 views, exactly! (Shut up, I thought it was cool.) In all seriousness, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. R&R please, a shorter update in the next few days. Till then, my lovelies! **


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The word of Listler's betrayal had apparently reached no one except for Evey and V while she remained in the Gallery. After all, the man was the director of the entire countries intelligence agency; if he wanted to remain hidden, it would not be difficult for him to manage.

Evey rejoined the world above expecting chaos surrounding the attack at the agency, but was surprised when she heard nothing, and everyone seemed oblivious. She concluded that Listler must have tidied up the mess and tied up all of the loose ends. It wouldn't have surprised Evey one bit if he was even at work right now, sitting in his office with smug satisfaction.

That thought brought a scowl to Evey's face, but she knew that it wouldn't be long before this man was where he rightfully belonged: prison. Then they would see who wore the smug expression. _That_ thought brought a small smile to the corners of Evey's lips. Yes, this man would soon pay for his crimes.

Eric Finch's secretary escorted Evey into his office once she had arrived. She was a kind woman named Jenna, and as much as it pained her to do so, Evey often wondered if this woman could be a spy, as Melinda had been. After all, Melinda and Jenna both had a lot in common. Shaking such thoughts from her mind, Evey thanked Jenna, and sat down across from Finch.

"Now why couldn't you have sent me a nice secretary like Jenna? Are you keeping all of the nice ones for yourself?" Evey joked once she had seated herself in his office.

"Evey, have I not sent you a reliable secretary?" Finch defended himself with a smile. Evey returned his wistful smile, before her face turned serious as she reached into her purse. She produced a small, metallic object from her purse, and at a push of a button, a small red light lit up. Finch immediately recognized this as a signal jammer; he and Stone had used them frequently when they had information that they would rather keep away from the Ear. Evey knew full well that the Ear was still operational, and with Listler's betrayal, she couldn't be sure how far the conspiracy against the revolution went. It was entirely possible that Lister was in league with men from all areas of Norsefire.

When the red light blinked on, a grave expression crossed Eric Finch's face. The news he was going to be receiving was not good in the slightest if Evey had to take such precautions.

"What's going on?"

Evey took a deep breath before beginning, "Last night, V was out doing some…reconnaissance on one of the rebel cells under X. His information led him to a meeting that was happening that night at the intelligence agency. He listened in on a conversation, and found out something terrible." Evey took a pause to gauge Finch's reaction.

Eric Finch knew what the meeting place implied. Simple minded fingermen would not be meeting in a government building unless they had someone who was working from the inside. He knew from his experience that Evey was going to tell him of a mole working against them. "Who is it?"

Evey bit her lip before blurting it out: "Director Listler."

Finch's eyes widened. That was a _very_ serious accusation Evey was making. And although he knew her source to be trustworthy, he had some difficulty accepting that this man was a traitor.

"Evey, are you certain?"

Evey nodded, "You know that V wouldn't lie about this. He encountered Listler face to face; he heard the man address him. And I think V would recognize the man who shot him." Venom was injected into Evey's voice at her last statement.

Finch knew that V would never lie about something that threatened his revolution. But George Listler was a man that everyone was fond of and had come to like. Everyone had the utmost confidence in his ability to lead the agency in times of trouble and chaos. Of course, the same could have been said of Melinda.

"I know that, Evey. But how can I arrest him on only the word of a dead man? The people would only see that as the government abusing its power as Norsefire did. I'll have to have Stone launch an investigation it we're to do this properly." Finch reasoned.

Evey saw the logic in his statement, but she recalled something that V had told her last night. He had said that Listler was leading the new police force in the wrong direction when it came to investigating X. And although she trusted Dominic Stone, she could not trust his resources, which now could have been compromised by Listler himself. If Listler had even a hint that he was being looked into, he would expertly cover his tracks and deny all accusations. This had to be handled with the utmost discretion and secrecy. She told Finch as much.

"Eric, I understand if you want to bring Dominic in on this. But you can't go to the police. V told me that Listler had corrupted police resources, so that he could steer them away from the rebels he was working with. He has certainly done the same thing to his own information. This has to be handled carefully so that we don't spook him." Evey explained.

This brought another frown to Eric Finch's face. He rubbed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. With the revolution moving quickly, things were also beginning to spiral out of control as alliances were tested and new enemies were revealed. Eric and Evey were beginning to share mutual feelings of distrust to those around them, and it left them angry and exhausted.

"This is bad. Evey, this is _bad_. He knows everything about the government, and about the people working in it. He is an enormous threat to our success." The gravity of the situation was finally beginning to hit him head on.

And George Listler _was_ a great threat to the revolution's success. As head of the intelligence and surveillance agency, he had access to all government documents, plans, security footage, and records. Not a thing happened in this government without George Listler knowing about it. And due to his incredible access to this knowledge, in addition to his own resources, Listler wielded enormous amounts of power over those who would oppose him. He was virtually untouchable, and could do unimaginable damage to the revolution.

Finch realized that once Listler had been taken care of, new checks and balances would have to be put in place on his position, so that no one could abuse that power again. It was like Norsefire all over again, and Finch shuddered to think about what could have happened should Listler take full advantage of the power he possessed. How had this gone unnoticed? Finch never would have allowed just anyone to have such power.

They had become too trusting; anyone with a charming smile and a declaration of dedication to the revolution was suddenly an un-wavering ally. And that would have to change. There had been far too many betrayals for Finch to overlook the things that were happening within their own government.

"Alright. I can do some digging; I have just as much access as Listler. I'll still call Dominic in on this. I'll need his help, and there is no one I trust more."

Evey nodded and sighed with relief. "Thank you, Eric."

"Don't thank me yet. There's a lot we'll have to discuss once this is taken care of. Things are getting out of hand, and we need to take steps to prevent things like this from happening in the future. But I'll let you get to work Evey, and I'll call Dominic right now. He'll help me set up a secure phone line so that we can communicate, and a secure internet connection to prevent Listler from watching us."

The two rose to shake hands, and Evey shut off the signal jammer and returned it to her purse. To keep up impressions, she began in a cheerful voice, "Thank you so much for your opinion on those plans, Eric. I was having trouble deciding what direction I wanted to take with the museum."

"Of course, anytime. Have a good day, Evey. I'll call you later." Finch responded, playing along.

Evey turned on her heel and strode out of Eric's office, wanting to get to work so that she actually _could_ look at the museum plans that she had been procrastinating looking over.

Ms. Hayes was as gruff as ever, although by now Evey had slowly gotten used to her less-than-friendly attitude. Evey was polite as always as Ms. Hayes gave her the mail and told her about her daily agenda. Evey was glad to know that she didn't have any other meetings today.

All of Evey's employees had returned since the attack, and were now busy at work when she walked out of the elevator. Most looked up from their work to wave cordially at her, and a few approached her to either greet her or ask her a question. After everyone had had a chance to talk to her, Evey finally made it to her office and shut the door so that she could have some peace and quiet.

Finally situated comfortably at her desk, Evey once again dragged out the plans for the new museum. The current plan was to build it where Parliament once stood, in commemoration of the event that had freed England. They would begin as soon as Evey had signed off on all of the plans.

She had approved most of the plans already; the architectural blueprints were the first things that she had given her approval on. Most of the exhibits had already been signed off on as well. However, Evey was still trying to decide if she approved of the memorials they had planned for V.

Evey wanted a memorial for all of the people who thought V to be dead; after all, she had sworn to V that the people would always remember V as an idea, but more importantly, as a man. But with her secret knowledge of his well-being, it was strange and admittedly difficult for Evey to sign off on something that was commemorating a lie. It felt like a betrayal to the people, who trusted her to be the voice of truth in the revolution.

She knew, of course, why they had to go through with this lie. If they didn't, it would certainly jeopardize everything that V was trying so desperately to achieve. It would also be very dangerous, due to the increasing amount of rebel activity. V's existence had to be kept a secret.

Evey was sitting at her desk, staring down the papers in front of her, when suddenly, her door was thrown open, startling her. Evey glared up at the intruder; didn't they know to knock? And why hadn't Ms. Hayes paged her to let her know?

Once she recognized the man who had so rudely entered her office, Evey's face twisted into a scowl that matched that of her intruder. Now she knew why no one had bothered to alert her to his presence.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of having the_ esteemed_ Director Listler in my office?" Evey seethed. Listler shut the door with an air of icy calm. He strode over to Evey's desk and took a seat in one of the chairs she had available for guests. Evey looked this man up and down. He was tall, and admittedly quite handsome, although any positive thoughts she had regarding this man had been dashed by his betrayal.

"Ms. Hammond, it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person." Listler began sarcastically. "And to think, I thought everyone was exaggerating when they told me that you were a fierce young woman."

Evey opened her mouth to fire off her retort, but Listler held up his hand and quickly cut her off. He pulled out a signal jammer identical to the one Evey had used mere hours ago and placed it on her desk. Once the red light was one, he continued.

"Now then, before you say something you might regret later, I would like to inquire about the well-being of your friend who paid me a visit last night." Listler smirked as Evey's eyes widened suddenly. "Yes, that's quite the stunt you two have played. You had us all fooled. And to think that someone who is so dedicated to building a government on truth, would lie to her own people about the vitality of their hero."

"Mr. Listler, I suggest that you state your business and leave before I call security." Evey hissed, trying desperately to maintain her composure. If only looks could kill.

"Oh I don't think you'll be doing anything of the kind, Ms. Hammond. You see, you are not in the position to be making those kinds of decisions. But I'll state my business for you, _Princess_," He spat, "And my business is this. I came to warn you that if you continue to have me investigated, I won't only expose your dear friend V for the coward he is, but I will come after you personally. No one will ever know what happened to you; and no one will ever find your body."

Evey was shocked at the brazenness of this man's threat; but she was not scared in the least. Most people would assume that he was crazy if he claimed that V was alive, and Evey would give a tearful speech about how terribly she missed the fallen hero, and V would be safe. As for his threat on her life, Evey would like to see him try anything and face V's wrath.

"If you think I will be intimidated by a simple-minded _thug_ like you, you are sadly mistaken Mr. Listler. Now I highly suggest that you get out of my office, before I have security forcibly remove you. It's your choice, Director." Evey glared at the man until he finally laughed, and rose from his seat.

"I admire a woman with such confidence. It's a shame, really, that you ended up on the wrong side of this. We could have made an excellent team, you know. But I trust that you're a smart woman as well. So I suggest that you take my advice, unless you want your beloved V on the front page of every newspaper in the country."

George Listler reached down and grabbed his signal jammer, turned it off, and returned it to his pocket. With a confident smirk, he nodded and left Evey to stew. She burned holes into his back as he walked out of her office, and it was only once he was out of her sight that she released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"The bloody bastard," Evey cursed under her breath. Evey was now so entirely incensed that she doubted that she would be able to get any more work done that afternoon. Evey also thought that she should contact Finch; not because she was going to call off the investigation, but because Finch needed to know about this altercation.

But Listler had known about his investigation; if he had known about Finch's secure computer connection, he had most certainly tapped his phone. Deciding that it would be better to simply visit him in person, Evey gathered her things and walked out of her office.

Ms. Hayes was hardly interested about her story regarding going to lunch, and asked her no questions as she left the building. The security guards gave her a curious look, but did not try to stop her or ask where she was going.

It took her around fifteen minutes to arrive at Eric Finch's office and park her car, and another five to finally knock on the door to his office. She heard him call out, "Come in", and she opened the door. Stone and Finch were both hunched over a computer, each with several case files resting next to them. Disposable coffee cups littered the room.

Both men looked shocked to see her, and they immediately thought that something was wrong. In a sense, they were right. "Evey, has something happened?"

Ignoring his question, Evey countered with one of her own: "What have you found out about Listler?"

Now it was Dominic Stone who spoke up. "Honestly, the man is good at covering up his tracks. The best we have found were some discrepancies in his bank accounts and some holes where other data should be, as if it were erased. Really, it's circumstantial at best. We can't arrest him based on these facts, and even if we could, it would never stand up in court."

Stone rose and handed Evey a few files to look over, which he explained were the anomalies in his bank account. She glanced over it, although the numbers that blurred on the page made little sense to her. Besides, she hadn't come here to look at bank statements. She had come to deliver some news. Without anymore hesitation, Evey pulled out her small signal jammer and turned it on. This brought looks of concern to the men's faces.

"Listler knows about our investigation."

The two men glanced at each other in shock, and then back again at Evey. Finch was the first person to speak, "How can you be sure?"

Evey relocated a stack of papers and sat down across from Finch and next to Stone. "He just left my office. He told me that you needed to stop this investigation, or else…" Evey paused, unsure of how to continue. Finch knew about V, but that was only due to dire circumstances. Dominic Stone did not, and although Evey knew she could trust Stone, she refused to reveal V to anyone else.

"Let's just say he made some threats against me and some of my…colleagues," Evey stated carefully, trying to give Eric a knowing look without giving anything away to Stone. Finch's eyes widened; he seemed to understand what she was trying to say. He took that moment to excuse Stone so that he and Evey could discuss this in private.

"Dominic, why don't you go grab us all some more coffee?" He suggested. Stone took the hint and nodded before quickly leaving the room, leaving Evey and Eric alone.

"What exactly did he say to you, Evey?"

"After he revealed his knowledge about the investigation, he told me that if we didn't stop it, he would reveal to the world that V was actually alive. He knows, because he escaped the night V tried to stop the meeting. And after that, he threatened to kill me personally."

Eric let this information settle in his mind. He should have known that his connection wasn't secure enough to get around the director of an intelligence agency; he should have just done the digging the old fashioned way, and he was regretting this choice more and more by the second. But regardless, what they had discovered helped them very little. However, the fact that Listler had threatened Evey brought an idea to mind.

It was a long shot, but at this point, it was the only chance they had of bringing Director Listler down. Although they couldn't arrest Listler on grounds of treason, they could arrest him for harassment and making a threat against a government official. Once he was in custody, they would have enough probable cause to get the warrant they needed to search his personal computer. And with Listler in custody, there was nothing that he could do to stop it.

"You're telling me that he threatened to kill you?"

"Oh, Eric, you don't have to worry, nothing will come of it…"Evey began, thinking that the man was concerned for her safety.

"This is good, Evey."

"Excuse me?" Evey narrowed her eyes at Finch, who sat directly across her. Apparently, she had misinterpreted his worry. Eric realized how harsh this statement must have sounded to her.

"I didn't mean it quite like that. All I meant was that now, we have a chance at catching Listler. If we arrest him for making these threats against you, then we might just have enough time to find some more incriminating evidence." Eric explained.

Evey nodded in understanding. At this point, it was really the only play they had on him, since he could deflect any attack directed at him. Listler knew everything, but if he was removed from his resources, he would be powerless to stop the investigation. Evey liked this idea, but doubted that it would work.

"Do you really think that will work? You won't be able to hold him for long, especially if he calls in his lawyers."

"I know, but we'll have to take advantage of whatever time we can get. You know the risks of continuing with him watching." Finch reminded her. Yes, although most people would think him insane for claiming that V was alive, it would but a seed in the minds of the people. But more importantly, it would start rumors amongst rebel organizations, which would only spell trouble when they decided to investigate the truth of his claims.

The two stared at each other for a few moments before Evey let out a sigh. "Alright. It's the best we have at this point. What will you need me to do?"

"Nothing for now, although I would expect that if this works, you'll have to testify against him at some point. But until we've found something, just continue on as normal. And you should let V know what's happening as well, so that he doesn't try anything to risk this operation." Finch suggested, knowing full well that V's mind would be completely occupied with thoughts of revenge.

At this point, Dominic Stone returned, knocking tentatively at the door. Finch called him in, and he placed three hot mugs of coffee on the desk. Stone looked slightly uneasy, knowing that a private conversation had just taken place, and kept glancing at Eric in concern. Evey knew that the two needed to get back to work, so she finished her coffee and thanked them both for their time.

Feeling far more at ease now that they knew of Listler's surveillance, Evey decided that it would be best to return to work and get some things done.

Ms. Hayes paid her no mind once she had returned. She walked right into her office, and stared down the pile of papers in her inbox that was growing by the day. With a sigh, Evey threw herself into her work, trying to get as much done as she possibly could. It would be a long day while she waited for news from Finch.

* * *

Later that evening, V was sitting alone in the Gallery, enjoying a cup of tea while he watched the evening news. After he had secretly escorted Evey home, and had seen that she had brought work home with her, he had returned down the Shadow Gallery to watch for any news regarding the incident at the intelligence agency. He doubted there would be, due to Listler's ability to cover things up.

But V was quite shocked when Philip, who he had learned from Evey had regained his anchor position, began talking not of a murder, but of an arrest at the agency. Carefully, V set down his teacup and sat upright as he listened intently to the news.

"_And in other news, the director of the English Intelligence Agency, George Listler, has been arrested by authorities. No details have been released by the police, and it is currently unknown as to why he was arrested. We will keep you updated as the situation progresses." _

This was news indeed. Something must have happened, he reasoned, because he knew that Finch wouldn't be able to find anything without Listler finding out about his investigation. He was sure that Evey would know what had transpired up above, but she had not come down that evening.

V was desperate for answers, especially since he had wanted to be the one to take the traitor down. His gunshot wound was an angry reminder that the man who shot him and betrayed the revolution was still at large. He had wanted revenge. Of course, this wasn't shocking coming from the man who had dedicated twenty years to a vendetta. He should be happy, but it was hard, knowing that he had not delivered justice to this man personally.

V sighed. Yes, he would let this matter go, because he knew that this was the kind of justice that Evey wanted, and the kind of justice that the people needed to see. He reminded himself that this was their world now. They needed to have faith in their government. And V was trying to remain uninvolved, which was proving to be more difficult than he had ever imagined.

But for now, V would relax and try and enjoy his quiet evening. He had selected several books from his vast library to keep him company that night while Evey focused on her work in the world above. Turning off the tele, V rose to put his cup in the kitchen before he settled himself on the chaise lounge. Although he would prefer Evey's company to that of a book, it would serve him well enough until they were reunited in a few days time.

**A/N**

**Hmm. Well, this chapter gave me some trouble, especially with the ending. Oh well. I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think. (Constructive Criticism always welcome) Now the NEXT chapter is one that I am super SUPER excited to write out, and one that I think you guys will definitely enjoy as well. ( DestielJunkie, get ready!)Also, I start school in exactly 7 days (ugh) so updates are gonna be a bit slower after that point. They WILL happen though, I swear. R&R, really makes my day guys! **

** Vampiyaa and Krystal Jaymes, ahaha both of these reviews cracked me up! You guys are just gonna have to wait and see ;D**

** Firefly, I would love it if my chapters could all be longer, (sorry this one wasn't) but some of the chapters are spaced out to be shorter, just because there isn't a lot going on anyway. Hope you enjoy anyway! :) **


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Several days after Listler's arrest, V and Evey had been planning an evening together down in the Shadow Gallery. With the arrest and yet another address to the people, Evey had been dreadfully busy for the past several days. She was either staying late into the evening, or dragging work home with her. It was her work load that had kept her from visiting the Gallery recently.

Granted, V had talked to her in her flat, a few evenings after she had returned from work. But they were only for a few moments, so that he could ensure that she was well and so that they could plan out their next rendezvous. V did not want to keep her from her work, so the meetings were usually very brief.

But tonight, Evey had left exactly at five o'clock, and had returned to her flat without incident while he watched her. And now, V was beginning the evening's preparations in anticipation of her arrival. Evey had told him to expect her around seven, although V was predicting an earlier arrival, which would suit him just fine.

He began by setting the table, for Evey of course, as he would eat at a later time. But he still took his time, making sure that the place setting was all in order. After he had the table put together nicely, V would begin preparing the meal.

His plan was to have a chicken and pasta dish, which he knew Evey was fond of. The day had been spent procuring these provisions, in addition to monitoring rebel activity on his computer. Once V had set everything out on the counter and had put together all of his needed cookware, he took a brief detour out of the kitchen in order to select a song from the Wurlitzer. Once the music began to play, V glided into the kitchen, humming along as he began his preparations.

It was impulse for V to remove his black, leather gloves before he cooked. Twenty years of doing so had engrained this habit into him, despite his desperate attempts to hide behind clothing at any other time. However, that had all changed once Evey had entered his life. V paused, considering his options as he remembered that Evey would be joining him in the gallery.

Evey's first morning in the Gallery would be a morning that he would never forget. His strict policy for covering his burnt flesh was almost always at the forefront of his mind; especially now, with a terrified young woman staying with him in the Gallery. But somehow, he had let habit bring down his guard, and he had carelessly gone without gloves as he prepared her breakfast. Of course, he had heard her once she had stirred; his superior hearing would have allowed him plenty of time to don the gloves once more.

But something had stopped him. He knew not what had given him pause, that morning, but he had decided in a split second that he would not put the gloves back on. It would be a test, to see her reaction. He knew that it was an incredible risk, considering that he was forcing her to stay with him for an entire year. It would take only one glance at his hands to scare her off completely.

Imagine his relief and surprise when she had not shown any signs of revulsion, or of fear, but of _concern, _of all things. Evey had shown genuine concern over a man she had met just days previously, who had kidnapped her, blown up a building, and murdered men in front of her. If that was indeed a test, she had passed it with flying colors.

V had still been terrified, of course. The mere thought of showing anyone his burns made his heart rate speed up. He may have been a fearless vigilante to most people, but even heroes have demons that they must face. But Evey's reaction had given him faith in this young woman, and perhaps a little bit of hope.

And now, remembering her reaction, it gave V the courage he needed to take off his gloves. It would be another test, and V had no doubt in his mind that the woman making her way down to the Gallery would pass it once again.

Of course, the hateful voice in the back of V's mind began to speak up now, making V pause once again. It laughed viciously at him. All that this little "test" would do is remind Evey that there was not a charming prince under the mask, as fairy tales would have her believe. No, behind this mask was a monster; his hands alone were enough to prove that. Once he showed her his hands again, any romantic hopes that she had been building up would be dashed at this vicious reminder.

"No," V growled under his breath. He silenced the voice in his head, forcing any negative thoughts out of his mind. V reminded himself that Evey had seen his hands once before, and had not shied away. She could certainly handle that once again, especially considering how the circumstances have changed.

Finally, the gloves were fully removed and placed on the counter next to the sink. With a deep breath, which was hindered by the mask, V began cooking. He started with the chicken, which he pounded flat and placed in a marinade. A pot of water was put on the stove to begin boiling, while V also began to heat up a pan for the chicken. While he waited for these things to get hot, V began to slice up some vegetables.

The rhythm and pace of cooking had always been therapeutic for V; he smiled wistfully as he thought about his propensity for tasks that required repetition and rhythm, such as throwing knives, cooking, or gardening. Of course, he greatly appreciated other activities as well, but things such as these calmed his nerves like other activities he enjoyed could not. Cooking was something that V had come to love during his twenty year solitude. He had also come to perfect the art, as he had to learn to cook for himself, and cook well, for he ate whatever he cooked.

V was now in a very agreeable mood. Cooking had soothed his anxiety, and humming along to one of his favorite songs always brought V a better mood. But the best thing was knowing that Evey would be arriving soon. That brought a smile to the man behind the mask.

And the smile only grew wider when he heard small footsteps growing louder.

V knew that if he didn't do something to keep his hands busy at this very moment, the voice snarling in the back of his mind would begin screaming at him, and he would surrender to the gloves before Evey even entered the gallery. So, noticing that his pan was finally hot, V began to lay the chicken gently into the pan, where it began to sizzle and pop.

"Something smells good, V." It came from behind him, and V could hear the smile in Evey's voice. With one deep breath to steady himself, V turned to face Evey with as much casualness as he could muster. His heart was pounding, and he could only hope that he wouldn't dash the smile that graced her lovely features. He held his hands up, not wanting to soil anything with chicken drippings, but also putting them on display for Evey.

"Evey, my dear, you're early! Give me just a moment." V hoped that his voice hadn't betrayed his frayed nerves. He used this time to gauge her reaction. It was not surprising to V that Evey was not concerned, as she had already learned the cause of his wounds and knew that there was no reason to worry over them. A look of pleasant surprise did cross over her face, but then she was just staring back at the mask with an easy smile. That was it? Now it was V's turn to mentally laugh at the voice in his head.

Evey was of course shocked to see V's hands, but she was more surprised by the gesture that V was making. It was a test; this she knew, but it still brought a smile to her face. They were moving forward, and he was starting to slowly come out of his shell. At that moment, Evey would have given just about anything to see V's true reaction behind the mask.

In all honesty, the scars didn't bother Evey, although they had shocked her the first time she saw them. Now, she was able to observe far more detail. She noticed first and foremost that V's sleeves had been slightly rolled up just past the wrist, revealing far more flesh. This allowed her to more closely examine the hands that she had only seen on one other occasion. The color was not nearly as red and angry as she had remembered, although she could now see that the ridges were much more defined. But truly, the scars hardly fazed her.

Now, she was smiling back up at the mask. She had seen his hands before and there was really nothing shocking or out of place. She had no reason to stare. However, Evey did want to feel the weight of his gaze resting in her own eyes, which is why she now directed her stare into the black eye screens of Guy Fawkes.

V smiled behind the mask once their eyes met, and he turned towards the sink in order to wash his hands. Although she had not flinched or shown any signs of revulsion, V was starting to grow uncomfortable with having his skin exposed. This anxiety was born from twenty years of hiding his deformity, not because he didn't trust Evey. His hands were practically begging to be trapped within the leather gloves once again.

Evey made no move to stop him, knowing that even this small step forward was a huge leap for V. She would give him the time he needed; time was one thing that they were certainly not short on. Once V had finally slipped on his gloves, Evey was wrapping her arms around him. She rested her head on his chest and took several deep breaths; she had missed this these last few days. A smile began to grow on her face once V returned the embrace.

It was still a shock to V that such a beautiful creature would willingly embrace a man like him, especially after being reminded of the monster beneath the mask. What was more shocking was that it was not out of pity, remorse, or obligation, but simply out of the desire to do so. He was slowly getting used to the feeling of having Evey wrapped around him, and was slowly coming to terms with the fact that Evey actually _wanted_ to be in his arms. Twenty years of solitude and self-loathing had not done V any favors when it came to matters of the heart.

The embrace had to be broken however, as V had to flip over the chicken before it burnt. He would not stand for ruining such a lovely meal. Evey took this moment to walk out to the Gallery's entrance and hang her jacket on the coat rack and deposit her purse on a small side table so that she could easily find them when she left. With a wistful smile, Evey considered the idea of "losing" her purse, which would allow her more time in the Gallery with V. She decided against it though, knowing that she was already far enough behind with all of her work.

Once she returned to the kitchen, Evey saw that V was once again hard at work, gracefully traipsing around the kitchen preparing the evening meal. She smirked, especially now that V had donned his delightful floral apron. It reminded Evey of the juxtaposition of his training room and his garden. The apron was light, cheerful, and vibrant, while the man who wore it was capable of shocking feats of violence and could take a man's life without a second thought.

"Did you have a good day, Evey?" V asked, wanting to strike up conversation now that he had noticed Evey watching him like a hawk. Evey silently chuckled as she realized that she must be making him slightly nervous. Of course, Evey could constantly feel the weight of V's gaze following her around, so she was simply returning the favor. And how couldn't she stare at this man?

"Oh, it was a normal, quiet day at the office. I suppose you could say that I had a good day, if a boring day at work is a good day. It's far better now that I'm here with you," Evey added with a soft smile. She watched as V's shoulders tensed slightly, and then released. Yes, she knew that it was difficult for V to grasp the concept of actually being loved. For twenty years he had been alone, with no one there to care for him. It would take him a long time to get used to the feeling. Loneliness could be a devastating thing.

"'If all the year were playing holidays, to sport would be as tedious as to work.'" V quoted. He glanced over his shoulder to catch Evey's reaction of a furrowed brow and pursed lips, trying to recall the quote. "'Tis Shakespeare, love, in his play Henry IV." He explained with a soft smile.

"Yes, I suppose Shakespeare is right. But that doesn't change the fact that work has been quite stressful the last few days." Evey puffed out. She was now leaning against the countertop, watching as V began to cook the pasta. The mask dipped slightly in agreement, and turned ever-so-slightly to the side so that V could glance over at the young woman.

"I trust that despite the stress, things have been progressing well?" V queried. It would be a complete lie to say that V didn't want to know about the well-being of his revolution, although he tried his very best to stay uninvolved. Unless of course, that well-being was threatened by rebels, in which case he was _very_ happy to involve himself. But keeping tabs on the revolution was very important to V, and with Evey being privy to more confidential details, he was able to glean plenty of information from her.

"Of course. Things have been going quite well, especially now that Listler has been arrested. The few hours that his arrest on harassment charges brought us were absolutely priceless, and Eric found everything he needed in order to convict him of treason."

"And what of The Ear and The Eye?" That was the next big concern that Evey and Finch had to face. Evey frowned slightly at the mention of it.

"I haven't been told much, since the operation is very 'need to know', but from the hints I've been given, I gather that things are moving along as planned. Eric told me that we should know more within the next few weeks. It's a very delicate operation, since Eric wants to be able to capture and imprison those responsible for still running it. He doesn't want to spook them."

V nodded, considering the latest advancements that the revolution had taken. Of course, everything that Evey had told him was very good news. V couldn't have asked for anything more. Yes, Evey had been the perfect person for this job, and she had surrounded herself with people who were equally capable.

"Very good. Am I right in assuming that Prime Minister Finch will have you making an address once the last of Norsefire has been stopped?"

Evey nodded. "Yes, he told me to have some sort of outline prepared, so that details could be inserted where needed."

By now, V was beginning to strain the pasta. Evey, as usual, asked if she could help with anything, but V politely declined, saying that he was more than capable. Once he had tastefully arranged everything onto her plate, V set her meal down on the table and pulled out her chair as any true gentleman would. Now he took his seat across from her, and watched as she began to eat.

"This is wonderful, V, as always." Evey complimented.

"Thank you, Evey. It is always a pleasure to cook for you."

Between bites of succulent chicken and pasta, Evey and V talked about anything and everything, enjoying the easy flow of conversation. Suddenly, Evey remembered a conversation that V had been putting off for quite some time. V seemed to recognize her hesitation:

"Is something troubling you, Evey?" The inkling of concern was beginning to creep into his mind.

"No, not _troubling_ me, really. But I've been meaning to ask you this for some time, and I've only just remembered."

"Of course, Evey. You may ask me anything."

"I just wanted to know what happened, exactly, the night of the fifth. I just…need to know what happened, after I put you on the train." The memories that came along with this question were overwhelming, and Evey bit back a few tears that threatened to escape. Her voice cracked slightly at the very mention of putting V on the train, giving him his Viking funeral. V may have made her fearless for the most part, but he still could not rid her of the fear of losing him.

V nodded. He had always known that they would have to have this conversation, and was prepared to answer any of her questions about it. V immediately noticed that Evey had to hold back tears at the mention of that night, and he suspected that this would be an emotional conversation on her part. It would dredge up some of her darker memories.

"Yes, of course. I will explain everything to the best of my ability. But perhaps you would like to adjourn to the living room, where it is more comfortable?" V suggested. That sounded like a far better idea to Evey, who ate her last few bites quickly before taking her plate into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, the pair was situated on the chaise lounge, facing each other. Evey stared expectantly at the man before her, waiting for him to begin his story.

"Is there anything specific you would like to know, Evey?" V asked.

Evey thought for a moment. She had tons of questions swirling around her mind, but one question stuck out in her mind.

"I just don't understand how you survived. Were you alive when I put you on the train? I know it sounds like a stupid question, but I was convinced that you were…dead." Evey struggled to say the last word.

"In all honesty, that is a question that I have pondered myself many times. All I can recall from that fateful night is waking up on the train to the sound of your voice. I could see you. And although the idea sounds strange, I think that I was in fact dead when you put me on the train. Somehow, you brought me back from death's doorstep."

Evey stared straight into the black eye screens. Yes, that was a very strange idea. She was hoping for a more scientific, logical explanation that she knew V could deliver. But he appeared to be as confused as she was.

"I know that it seems utterly outlandish, Evey. As I said, I am still struggling for answers myself. But I have come to the conclusion that it was not coincidence that I lived. I just know that if I was meant to be dead, I certainly would be."

"But, how on earth did you ever get off of the train? Especially given your condition?" Perhaps this was a question that V could answer factually.

"Ah yes, my grand escape. That is something I have more definitive answers for. Once I had become semi-conscious, I'm sure that you can imagine that I was in incredible pain." Evey nodded grimly before V continued, "But I managed to stand, and begin devising a way out of the train car. Obviously, stopping the train was not an option; it wasn't even a consideration. My second thought was to make my way to the end of the car and jump from there, but the explosives were in the way. In the end, I broke through a window and jumped."

"And after that?"

Now, V paused in his story, for this is when Gordon had become a player in the story once more. V was torn between telling Evey the truth of Gordon's involvement, and committing yet another lie of omission by letting Gordon tell Evey personally. It was unbearable to lie to Evey, especially now considering how things had changed between them. But at the same time, V felt that this was something that Gordon should personally tell Evey about. He opted for the latter choice.

"After I made my way from the station, I found myself taking residence in a home that Norsefire had condemned. I was there for only a few days, while I repaired my most grievous injuries and allowed myself some time to heal. You should know, Evey, that I have several secret bunkers throughout London where I may take refuge should something happen to me or the Gallery. It was in one of these bunkers that I stayed, until the night I had discovered the plot against your life. That very night, I went to the Shadow Gallery for the first time in months, and gathered all that I would need."

"And that was when you found my letter," Evey added softly.

V bowed his head in agreement, "Yes; that is when I discovered your letter. And it was in that moment that I knew I couldn't remain hidden any longer."

A sad smile plagued Evey's otherwise lovely features, although V understood. Evey took this moment to cautiously scoot closer to V, who took a steadying deep breath. With a new found confidence, he gently wrapped his arms around his beautiful Evey and pulled her closer to his side. Evey gave him no resistance, and wormed her way closer to him once she knew she was welcome there.

"I still have it, you know." V stated, barely above a whisper.

Evey looked up to him, a look of pleasant surprise alighting her face. "Really?"

V nodded, "I read it often. It is one of the most beautiful pieces of written work that I have ever come across."

Evey laughed quietly. "I'm no Shakespeare, V."

"I know that, my dear. But the words that you had written on that page were more wonderful than anything Shakespeare ever could have written." V took a deep breath before continuing. He would get this out now. These were the words he had been longing to say since he read that letter. "For twenty years, I had never imagined that such incredible words would be directed towards me. I always thought that I would be alone; those words represented that which I could not have."

"But you do have it, V. And it isn't going anywhere." Evey finished for him. V chuckled softly at this.

"Yes, love. I should like to think that I do."

* * *

The couple sat curled up together for several more hours, talking idly, or just filling the time with silent, happy companionship. V had been so bewitched by the woman wrapped in his arms that he had hardly paid any attention to the time, until he absentmindedly glanced up at the clock. Behind the mask, his eyes widened when he saw that his large grandfather clock read half past midnight.

"My, my, I had no idea that it had gotten so late." V stated suddenly, rousing Evey from her euphoric state.

"What's wrong, V?" She rubbed her eyes lazily, and sat up limp against him. Evey was quite positive that she had been seconds away from falling asleep here, with her beloved. And she would have had no objections to that, although apparently the clock had other ideas.

"Nothing is wrong, my dear. I was merely observing the lateness of the hour, as it were." V explained, now regretting his outburst. He realized that Evey was probably moments away from falling asleep. That thought warmed him; it was such a subconscious, inherent display of trust that reminded V of how things had changed. Months ago, he knew that Evey would not have been so trusting.

Now Evey was slowly sitting up, feeling slightly more awake now that she had stretched some of the weariness from her muscles. Now it was she who took a glance at the clock, and whose eyes also grew wide when she realized how late it had gotten.

"Half past _midnight_? Already? Did I fall asleep, V?" Evey asked. "If I did, it certainly isn't because you were boring me. I'll have you know that you make quite the comfortable pillow." Evey mumbled, her mind still a bit cloudy with drowsiness.

V cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrow at this statement. "A pillow? Is that what you think of me?" He asked in mock offense. Evey wrinkled her nose at his statement.

"I take back what I said. I _much_ prefer my pillows; they don't give me grief over trivial matters. They remain quiet and let me have my rest." Evey quipped. V chuckled again, a deep rumbling from deep in his chest that caused butterflies to swirl inside of Evey as if she were a schoolgirl once again.

"In that case my dear, perhaps it is time that I escort you home so that you may find a more adequate pillow? You're tired, Evey." V suggested, growing more serious at his last statement. All joking aside, V knew that Evey really did need her rest, as her work kept her busy and often left her exhausted.

Evey felt like a child who was being coaxed into going to bed at her appropriate bed-time. She first refused that she was tired, but a large yawn that she couldn't fight back betrayed her. V took this opportunity to rise, and help his lady to her feet. He kept his arms around her to steady her in her drowsy state; he knew that when she was like this, her balance was precarious at best and could not be trusted.

But Evey did not want their lovely evening to end just yet. She had one more idea to make the evening special.

"V?"

"Yes, Evey?"

"This might be a foolish idea, but…do you suppose that it's late enough in the evening to take a walk through the park, instead of the tunnels? Do you think anyone would see us?" Evey tried not to sound to terribly eager.

V thought her request over for a few moments. It was late enough that he doubted many people would be out. And if they went through the park, he knew that if they did run into anyone, they would have enough cover from the trees and shrubs to hide. And V could certainly handle anyone they ran into, should they have more sinister motives against them.

V also thought that this request, though simple, was very symbolic. Rather than venture through the underground, Evey had requested to walk above, where she belonged. V was slowly spinning down towards doubt again, and he was questioning for what must have been the hundredth time if revealing himself to Evey was the best idea. He knew that being underground put a strain on Evey, especially due to the memories that were sure to plague her from her time in the Shadow Gallery's prison. It was quite telling that she had requested to avoid the tunnels, in his opinion.

But V overlooked the obvious and correct reason for Evey's request. Of course being underground was troubling for her, but merely because she had not spent as much time there as V had. She was growing used to the quirks of being underground. But she would have gone anywhere if it meant that V would be there with her. But the only reason that she had requested the change of scenery was simply because she wanted to have an enjoyable, and if she admitted to herself, _romantic_ moonlit walk in the park with her beloved. V's hesitation made Evey worried.

"I completely understand if it's a risk you don't want to take, V. I just thought that it might be a nice way to end the evening, if you are so adamant about me finding a proper pillow."

"No, no, Evey. I think that that is a wonderful idea." V mentally slapped himself for jumping to the darker conclusion. Why was it so hard for him to accept the simple thought that they might enjoy a nice stroll above, together? Was that not something that couples did?

Evey smiled in relief and excitement. A few minutes later, after locating her shoes, Evey stood by the Gallery's entrance while V helped her into her jacket. Once she was prepared, Evey watched with a secretive grin as V donned his own cape and hat with a dramatic flair that only V could manage. Evey wondered briefly if he had practiced that, or if it simply came naturally to him. She was leaning dangerously towards the latter.

The brisk London air removed the last traces of drowsiness from Evey's mind as she and V stepped out into the world above. It was almost electrifying, and she felt suddenly alive and not at all tired anymore. V noticed the change in Evey's demeanor almost instantly. He did admit that the cold air was rather stimulating, especially after being cooped up in the Shadow Gallery all evening. In addition to the darkness, the cold London nights had also become an ally of V's. The air brought him to life whenever he stepped out on one of his missions.

The pair had to hurry through several city blocks before they arrived at the park, and they thankfully ran into no one. Once they reached the relative cover and safety of the park, they slowed to a more comfortable, relaxed pace. V had to slow his steps considerably to try and match Evey's much shorter strides, but he didn't mind in the slightest.

It was a gorgeous night by London's standards. The moon was nearly full, casting the park in a beautiful moonlit glow. It was cold, but not so cold as to make Evey or V uncomfortable. A slight breeze caused the trees, which were just beginning to bud in the early English spring, to sway gently.

Evey closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath of fresh, cool air. "It's such a lovely night, isn't it?"

V only nodded and made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. He had seen plenty of "lovely nights" identical to this. V was far too busy enjoying the vision Evey made _enjoying_ the "lovely night". She was breathtaking, twirling with her eyes closed under the moonlight. The fact that she was here, in the seclusion of his allied darkness, made it all the more enchanting.

With her twirl completed, Evey returned to V's side and they began their quiet stroll through the park. It would take them on a rather large loop around Evey's neighborhood, but that hardly concerned either of them, as it meant more time together.

Occasionally, V would feel Evey's hand gently brush up against his own. The first time it happened, V was certain that it was an accident; a simple, innocent collision. The same could have possibly been said for the second occurrence, but the third was no coincidence. For a moment, V thought he felt her delicate fingers wrap around his for the briefest, most tender of seconds. But that easily could have been imagined, so fleeting was the moment.

It was on the fourth brush that V had come to the conclusion that Evey was doing this on purpose, as to hint to her own desires. Now, V was prepared. It was on the fifth brushing of their hands that V finally clasped onto Evey's hand, lacing their fingers together. Out of the corner of his eyes, V caught Evey trying to hide her smile, which V found absolutely heart-melting.

Evey was beginning to think that V would never take her hint, but she was quite pleased to be proven wrong once he grabbed her hand. Electricity flowed through their joined hands, making Evey shiver with delight. His hand was far warmer than average, although Evey had noticed that about V's body as a whole.

Evey couldn't help but appreciate how well their hands fit together. V was also very appreciative of this.

But V was also very wrapped up in the very idea that he actually had the opportunity to see their hands laced together. Although they had not scared Evey off entirely, he was almost certain that seeing his hands once again that very evening would give her pause about holding his hand, even with gloves on. Tonight was one night that V did not mind being repeatedly proven wrong.

The couple encountered no one during their walk, for which they were both thankful. It had been a silent affair, both enjoying the tranquility of the evening, and relishing in each other's company.

But soon, the cold was seeping through Evey's jacket, and her exhaustion was slowly catching up to her. V noticed that Evey's pace was growing slower, and that she was leaning on him ever so slightly. It was then that V decided to cut their walk short; they had been out for almost an hour, and as much as he was enjoying himself, he wanted Evey to have her rest. So, V steered her down another path in the park that would lead towards her flat. Evey did not protest.

Once Evey and V arrived at her flat, Evey fumbled around with her keys, almost dropping them. At this point, V stepped in, taking her hands in his and gently extracting the keys from her grasp. He easily twirled the key in the lock until the tumblers opened, allowing Evey entrance to her flat. V returned the keys to her waiting hands.

Evey made no move to enter her flat, however. She raised her eyes slowly to meet the eye screens, and once she felt V's powerful stare enter the liquid pools of her own eyes, she melted back into his arms for a final embrace.

"I had a wonderful night, V."

"As did I, Evey. I will be eagerly awaiting our next evening together." V agreed wholeheartedly.

Then, Evey rose slowly onto her tip toes and brought her face up to meet that of Guy Fawkes. But before she presented the mask with her kiss, she paused tantalizingly close to the enamel lips of the mask. Had the circumstances been different, if V could present her with his real face in that moment, he would not have been able to resist how close her plump lips were. But he was utterly entranced, waiting for Evey's next move.

"I love you, V." Evey whispered so quietly V almost thought he was imagining it. But once Evey pressed her lips delicately to the mask, his suspicions were confirmed. It was like the last few times the mask had been graced with such a gift; he doubted that he would ever get used to the pulse-pounded electricity that coursed through him whenever she kissed the mask. He certainly hoped he never got desensitized that that magical feeling.

"And I love you, Evey." V hushed back, the moment his stolen breath had been returned. It was then that Evey slowly drew herself away and out of his embrace, and quite reluctantly at that. Using the very last of her coherent thoughts, Evey turned to V one last time before walking into her flat.

"Goodnight, V. I've some pillows to see to tonight. I do believe that they've encountered some competition." She teased with a smirk.

To this, V laughed outright. Then he watched as Evey disappeared and closed the door behind her, making her way up to her bedroom. V continued to chuckle as he turned and melted into the shadows.

Yes, competition indeed.

**A/N Woo! And that my dears, is the half way point! I used my written outline and figured out that this should be about 25 chapters long, assuming I don't add or remove any of the plot elements. This was super fluffy, I know, but I hope you guys liked it! Especially you, DestielJunkie. Do I get some of those roses? ;) **** I start school on Tuesday *dies*. So unless I kick my butt into gear tomorrow, this will probably be the last update until about labor day. **

** Kassandra203 thank you so much for your lovely review! It means the absolute world to me! **

**Thanks for all of the sweet reviews guys! (And the hilarious ones) Keep it up, you guys are the best :) **


	13. Chapter 13

**Well butter my butt and call my a biscuit, look who actually cranked out one more chapter before school starts! :D Here you are, lovelies! Enjoy the fluffy goodness. **

Chapter 13

Months ago, Evey would not have recognized the woman who was now staring back at her from the mirror. She had a hardened expression, dark circles under her eyes, and her facial structure appeared to have gotten much sharper. This woman's hair was not a long, flowing waterfall of honey colored tresses. Her skin was free of any make up.

But then, months ago, she had _been_ a different woman.

Evey reached out to touch the reflection of this stranger; or at least, who used to be a stranger. Now, she was well acquainted with this face, and the person who came along with it. After running her fingers lightly over her own reflection, her hand retreated back to her scalp, where her fingers begin to wind into her hair. It was longer, now. She had stopped shaving it a few months ago, and was starting to let it grow out. It had grown long enough now that it was recognizable as a woman's hair, not a man's. In that respect, it had also become far easier to manage.

But this hair was the reason that Evey had been sitting, staring at this mirror for the past hour. She couldn't recall ever spending that much time looking into a mirror in one sitting. It made her feel almost foolish; it certainly made her feel incredibly vain. But Evey knew that it had to be done. A decision had to be made about her hair.

Evey's hair had now grown to hang almost exactly half way between her ears and her shoulders. After months of having shorter hair, Evey was beginning to recall the annoyance that came with having longer hair. She had half a mind to shave her hair once again, but the other half of her mind refused to let her. So she decided to sit down in front of a mirror and have a little chat with herself.

Evey knew that there were several advantages to having shorter hair, the lack of maintenance being one of them. But at the same time, Evey had always enjoyed having longer hair, as it provided her with some creative liberties. And yes, she would admit, that she thought she looked quite nice with longer hair.

Yet that long hair almost seemed like a relic of the old Evey, a woman that Evey hardly even knew anymore. If her hair was that long once again, Evey almost felt that she would be going back on who she really was now; in a sense, it was self-betrayal. She refused to go back to being that weak, fearful girl that she had once been. That girl was dead and gone, replaced by the stronger, fearless woman that V had forged.

And that was another reason that Evey had considered shaving her head once more. It was symbolic of her rebirth, and her shaved hair made her proud of whom she had become. It was a part of her new identity, and with it, Evey could hardly imagine having her long, flowing locks.

Yet at the same time, the idea of shaving her head repulsed Evey. It brought back powerful memories that she preferred not to think about. She had kept her head shaved while she was away from V, in order to protect her identity and keep her out of trouble. The first time she had attempted to do this herself, she had collapsed in tears at the memory of being shaved by V, which was quickly followed by more flashbacks of her torture. Every time Evey shaved her head, it got a little bit easier, and she would not react in such a fierce burst of emotion, but the visions still plagued her mind. Try as she might, she could not rid her mind of these vivid images. She could be fearless, but it did not change the fact that her torture was traumatic, and had left its own unique scars.

And that was the debate that had played on loop in her head for the past hour, as Evey stared at the mirror and absentmindedly fingered her hair. All she could do was continue to go back and forth with herself, trying to figure out what she should do.

Finally, in exasperation, Evey threw up her hands and let out a defeated groan. Glaring at herself in the mirror, she mentally questioned why she had to be so difficult.

* * *

V had seen Evey enter the Gallery bathroom almost an hour ago, with a small bag in hand, contents unknown. V wasn't sure he even recognized that bag. His curiosity was immediately piqued. As minutes slowly dragged on, V's curiosity slowly turned into the beginnings of concern. He heard Evey spread out what he presumed was in the bag, and could occasionally hear her shift positions or sigh, so he knew that nothing serious had happened just yet. V told himself to wait an hour. If nothing had happened in an hour, then he would go investigate.

But that plan was abandoned once he heard Evey slam her hands onto the counter and let out a frustrated grumble. V rose from his seat, his curiosity and concern finally peaking. He made his way to the bathroom door, determined to find out what was occupying his lady so. He knocked softly on the door.

"Evey? Is everything alright?" V asked, trying to mask the concern that was obvious in his voice.

The sudden knock on the door startled Evey; and reminded her that she was not the only creature in the Shadow Gallery that might need to use the bathroom. Evey rose stiffly from her perch in front of the mirror and opened the door to find V standing outside of it, his hands clasped together politely and the mask tilted to the side.

"I'm terribly sorry, V. I just lost track of time." Evey apologized. V just shook his head at her.

"No need to apologize, my dear. But might I inquire as to what has held your attention for such a long period of time?" V raised an eyebrow, infinitely more curious as he noted Evey's reaction to his question. She looked down at the floor, blush crawling up her neck.

"It's really quite foolish V…" Evey began, not eager to tell V about her more vain pursuits in front of the mirror. "But I've just been thinking about what to do about…my hair." She finally finished.

V couldn't help but chuckle at this situation. Here was his strong, confident Evey, reduced to a blushing school girl who couldn't decide what to do with her hair. Of course, in her time in the Gallery, V had come to enjoy observing the interesting quirks and habits that come with being a woman. He had noticed it more before her rebirth, but he could occasionally find traces of these foibles now. Brushing her hair, doing her makeup, removing the makeup once again, were all some of the interesting things that V had picked up on while Evey was his guest. V could sympathize with her situation, however, as he as well paid meticulous attention to his appearance, although not to the same degree that a woman did.

"And based on your time locked away, am I to assume that this lead to quite the dilemma?" V assumed.

Evey let out another frustrated sigh, and slumped her shoulders. "Dilemma is the perfect word for it." Evey opened the door a little wider and went to sit back down in front of this mirror, leaving V with an invitation to join her. V stepped in slowly, and discovered that the contents of the mystery bag were in fact supplies necessary for cutting hair. There were several pairs of scissors, some combs, and a few clips. And V sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes fell upon the electric trimmer. The last time he had used a pair like this was to torture Evey.

"I don't know what I should do, V. What do you think?" Evey asked, helpless. She looked away from her reflection to stare at V with wide, imploring eyes.

V thought about what his answer should be. In all honesty, it did not matter to him, because he thought that Evey was simply breathtaking no matter what her hair looked like. However, he despised what the shaved hair represented. Not her rebirth, and the strength she gained, but the methods from which she was reborn. To V, her shaved head brought back the horrible memories of torturing her. V chose his next words carefully.

"Evey, you will look stunning no matter what it is you choose to do. But I do want you to know that I regret having cut your hair. I do not, however, regret the end result from those choices."

Evey bowed her head slightly; yes, she knew what he was really saying. So much was conveyed in that short sentence. He was trying to apologize for the torture he inflicted upon her, but at the same time, saying he regretted none of it. When she was first released from that false prison, she absolutely would not have accepted this. At that time, Evey couldn't understand how a man regretted torturing her, yet continued to do it. She didn't understand that the ends justified the means.

But now? Evey understood what V had to do, and she understood that the ends justified the means. She had forgiven him a long time ago. How could she be angry with V when he had given her the most incredible gift of all? Her courage. Her strength. But most importantly, he had given her _herself_. There was no way that she could possibly fault him for that.

"I understand, V. And I forgave you for that months ago. You made me who I am today, and I can never thank you enough for that." Evey reached out from her perch to take V's hand in hers. V nodded thoughtfully while he tenderly reached out and ran his fingers through Evey's short hair. It was a rather impulsive, subconscious advance. She had a way of making him completely forget his reasoning and act without thinking. But he was pleased with Evey's reaction. Evey sighed in contentment at the feeling of V's hand in her hair. It was such a wonderful feeling.

"The choice is yours in regards to your hair. No matter what you choose, you will always be beautiful." V concluded. V saw that this was a personal moment for Evey, and decided in that moment to take his leave. He wanted to give Evey some privacy to make her decision.

Evey smiled gently at him before she turned her attention back to the mirror. She listened to the heavy "thunk" of V's boots as he left, and waited until she heard the door click shut before she began to run her hands through her hair once more.

The feeling of V running his hands through her curly locks was still fresh. It had sent shivers down her spine, and brought a warm blush to her cheeks. It was something that she absolutely _had_ to feel again.

Evey knew what she would do. She packed up her electric clipper, but did leave out her pair of scissors. Then, she assessed her hair from all possible angles in the mirror. She began to trim the ends of her hair, never going more than half an inch, trying to even out her jagged ends.

She would leave it half way, right there between her ears and her shoulders. Evey felt as though that was a very fair compromise for the two halves of herself: the half she had lost, and the half she had gained.

Satisfied with her work, Evey packed up her supplies and then tidied up the bathroom. With a final glance in the mirror, she gave herself a confident smile, and then emerged into the rest of the Shadow Gallery.

V had heard Evey snipping away in the bathroom, but did not hear the tell-tale whine from the electric clippers. Then, he heard Evey exit the bathroom, go into her bedroom, and then emerge once more. He was currently sitting on the chaise, enjoying some Shakespearean sonnets. Well, trying to enjoy them. His curiosity regarding Evey's activities made it rather difficult to focus on the words that played out before him.

But his curiosity was finally put to rest once Evey approached him from behind and rested a delicate hand on his shoulder. V lifted his head slightly, although he made no move to turn his head to look at her.

"You've made your decision, love?" It was more of a statement, than it was a question.

"Yes." She answered simply. With a happy sigh, Evey rested her other hand on V's other shoulder, and gently propped her chin on top of V's head. "What are you reading, V?"

V shut the book to show her the cover, "Some of The Master's sonnets. I thought that it would be a nice way to pass the time this fine afternoon. Perhaps you would care to join me?" V hoped that his voice didn't sound too terribly pleading.

Sliding her hands slowly down to V's chest, Evey now rested her head next to V's. She could feel all of V's muscles tense, but smiled triumphantly once she felt him relax once again. Evey could see how she was slowly breaking down V's barriers. V hardly flinched to the more practiced, familiar shows of affection, such as their long embraces and Evey's tender kisses. And when Evey tried something new, the amount of time that V stayed rigid was shortening. He was slowly beginning to trust her, on a deeper, more instinctual level.

Oh, Evey would be delighted to join V on the couch to share in some sonnets. She could hardly imagine anything better to do at that moment in time. But she needed something first. A small gesture was all that she needed before she would relent and curl up beside V. So she waited for a few moments, trying to decide if she should at least give V a hint.

She raised her eyebrow as V slowly reached down and opened the book to the page he had been on. Perhaps he did need a little nudge in the right direction. But she was quite pleased to be wrong in this instance. Once V had propped open the book to the proper page, he placed one hand on it to keep the page in place, while he slowly raised the second. It found its intended destination on Evey's scalp, where his fingers fanned out and tangled into the curls.

V gently pulled his fingers down, using this opportunity to not only relish in the affectionate gesture, but to also gauge how short Evey's hair was now. He figured that it wasn't all that much shorter; she must have just given herself a slight trim. A smile crept onto his marred lips; he had wholeheartedly meant what he said about Evey always being beautiful, but he was secretly glad that Evey had not shaved her head. It would prevent him from having flash backs of the dark times that he and Evey had both had in the false prison. He tried so hard to forget the pain he had caused her, and her shaved head would only remind him. And he would readily confess that he loved the feeling of running his hands through her hair.

Evey was satisfied now, and with another victorious smile, she rose and settled herself next to V in his welcoming embrace. Once she had squirmed close enough to suit the both of them, V began to read once again, only this time aloud.

"_O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem_

_By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!..."_

Evey had always enjoyed it when V read to her; his rich voice never failed to sooth her, while his dramatic inflection never failed to entertain her. He was a marvelous story teller, and had a propensity for lulling her to sleep when he ready such beautiful poetry. It was late afternoon, and Evey had not expected to find herself in such a drowsy state.

And the fact that V continued to lovingly stroke her short, curly hair did not help the matter in the slightest.

**A/N Well, I hope you enjoyed that! It was just a little fluffiness to add to the mix, so it wasn't too hard to get it to you guys before school starts tomorrow. It turned out a lot better than I had been anticipating while starting it last night. R&R my sweets, I'm off to bed, the new school year begins tomorrow. And update hopefully by labor day! **

** KrystalJames welllll...all I'm gonna say is that we still have some stuff with Norsefire that will happen in the next few chapters. My goal is to have a story with lots of V/Evey goodness, but still keep up with the revolution and everything, since it's such an important element! Hope you enjoyed this, and enjoy the ones to come! **

** DestielJunkie, if I have made you fangirl squeal, than I am doing something right! Thanks so much! **


	14. Chapter 14

**YAAAY An update! SOOOOO SO SO SO sorry that it wasn't up when I said it would be, but school literally round house kicked me in the face, and I had a tournament, and and and yeah. I hope the fact that it's my longest chapter yet makes up for it! Enjoy lovelies! :D**

Chapter 14

It was evenings such as these, spent with her close friends, made Evey momentarily forget that she was one of the most powerful people in England. They allowed her a few hours to forget the chaotic work of leading a revolution, or the growing rebel activity, or the fact that the Ear and the Eye had not yet fallen.

Evenings like these, spent with Gordon and Philip, were wonderful distractions from the daily grind. Although tonight, the conversation was slowly winding its way towards more professional matters.

Evey and Gordon had planned out this dinner for several weeks, trying to work around both of their hectic schedules. Gordon had wanted to work out the details of their upcoming show, but refused to actually sit down with Evey in a work environment. He insisted that Evey come over to visit, which Evey was more than happy to oblige too.

Philip had prepared dinner, as he always did when Evey came over for a visit. It was delicious as always, and they enjoyed a fine bottle of wine with it. They talked and laughed freely as the night went on, the wine slowly working into their systems and making the conversation flow all the better.

"Now Gordon, you've yet to tell me the story of how you and Philip met." Evey said with a smile, watching her hosts indulge in the wine they had selected. For her part, she idly sipped at her glass. She had never been much of a drinker; however, Philip and Gordon were now on their second glass of wine.

"Ah, yes! I've been meaning to tell you that story for ages. Let me assure you, our relationship certainly didn't get off to the best start," Gordon started.

Evey giggled as Philip snorted before interrupting. "As I recall, I was pretty cross with you."

Gordon silenced Philip with a wave of his hand. "_I'll_ tell the story, thank you very much." Philip merely rolled his eyes at this, but let his partner continue. "As you know, Philip quit the BTN after V destroyed the Old Bailey, because he knew that the story Norsefire wanted him to tell was a blatant lie. But that wasn't the first time he was angry about that. I was in a meeting with the old director about my old talk show. When all of a sudden, who should burst into the man's office in a complete rage, but our dear Philip."

Evey laughed aloud, "Did he really interrupt your meeting?"

Gordon nodded while Philip rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, and with quite a lot of flair, as one would expect of him. He stormed into the office, with the director's secretary yelling behind him, and he threw the copy of the script onto the man's desk. And do you know what he said then?"

"This is fucking bollocks! How can you expect me to spoon feed this shit to the viewers?" Philip yelled, leaping to his feet to provide the most dramatic effect, which left Evey in another fit of laughter. Evey almost wondered if they had rehearsed this bit.

"Am I to assume that it was love at first sight?" Evey asked facetiously.

"Far from it!" Gordon laughed. "I was annoyed to be interrupted, especially during an important meeting. So I grabbed his script and chucked it at the waste bin. I told him to wait outside while 'Mummy and Daddy talk'. Oh, that made him mad." That statement earned a wistful smile from both men. Philip decided to chime in.

"Naturally, after being offended in such a manner, I jumped to my own defense and started screaming at them both. The director was furious; it was a miracle he didn't actually fire me on the spot. But Gordon, the bastard, just sat there as calm as could be. That made me even angrier, so I just kept screaming until finally, Gordon just held up his hand in that way of his. I shut up immediately, and then Gordon just looked me up and down and said, 'If you think you're the only one tired of the bullshit, you're wrong. So why don't you just crawl back down to the newsroom and do your job.'"

"It was the only time I ever got him to listen to me," Gordon quipped. This got him a playful shove from his partner, who continued on with the story.

"After that, fate seemed to push us together. We kept bumping into each other, and pretty soon we started to get to know each other. One day, Gordon invited me over for dinner, since he knew of my disdain for Norsefire, and shared my sentiment. That was when we really discovered how much we had in common." Philip finished.

"What happened after you quit?" Evey wondered, knowing that work was the only pretense the two had for seeing each other during the Norsefire regime. Gordon spoke up to answer this question.

"We didn't see much of each other for a few weeks, but kept in contact nonetheless. We would often 'bump into each other' at a coffee shop or bookstore around the city. Of course, you know how V helped us in the aftermath of the raid." Gordon concluded.

Then, Gordon and Philip began regaling her with tales of their clandestine meetings, bringing a broad smile to Evey's face.

* * *

Evey had been trying all night to keep the conversation steered away from work matters. Anything that even remotely hinted of the possibility of turning into something work related was quickly shot down, as Evey would change the subject. It wasn't that she was tired of the work she was doing; she loved everything about what her work represented. But that did not change the fact that she was exhausted, and needed a break, even if it meant just a simple night without any work related topics.

But the subject could not be avoided forever; after all, one of the main reasons Gordon had invited her over was so that they could discuss Evey's appearance on his new talk show. It was when they had finally adjourned to the study, where they always went to enjoy some desert and more conversation, that Gordon had finally broached the subject.

"Now Evey, I know you wanted to avoid the subject, but I wanted to run a few ideas by you for the show." Gordon started, his speech slightly slurred from the wine and now brandy that was in his system. Evey nodded cordially, indicating that he should continue. "Now, obviously, the topic of the revolution will be the forefront of our conversation. But of course, all of England wants to know about you, so I'll be asking more personal questions if that's alright. We'll go over the script so that you can tell me what you think."

Again, Evey only nodded for Gordon to continue.

"Now, as for the wardrobe, I knew that you would be no help at all in deciding. And I already had my suit picked out, and I wanted us to match. So I took the liberty of picking out the evening's ensemble for you."

Evey eyed Gordon suspiciously. "Why do I have the feeling that I'm going to regret that?"

"Evey, I'm shocked that you would insult my sense of taste!" Gordon gasped, his voice dripping with mock offense. "It's quite an attractive number, and I'm sure you'll enjoy it. It is the perfect dress, let me assure you."

"Will I be having a look at this dress any time soon?" Evey queried. She knew that Gordon had immaculate taste, and she was sure that he picked out a beautiful dress for her to wear. Still, the idea of leaving it all to Gordon was a bit worrisome.

"That, my dear, will be a surprise! However, if I might offer one hint, I know that V will appreciate it immensely. You'll look positively radiant." Gordon smiled, while Philip's eyes widened.

Evey's head snapped up and she shot a penetrating glare at Gordon. Had she just heard him correctly? His statement about V was very much in the present tense, and she had told no one of V's well-being.

Gordon realized his error the second Evey looked up at him with one of her infamous stares. Perhaps the wine had loosened his tongue a little _too_ well. He had promised V not to tell Evey that he was alive; and although he now knew that he and Evey had been reunited, he had kept this promise. Now he wasn't sure whose wrath he feared more: Evey's or V's.

"What did you just say?" Evey asked, barely above a whisper. Philip now looked extremely uncomfortable as the tension between his partner and his friend mounted.

Gordon made a desperate attempt to salvage the situation: "I just said that V would have appreciated the outfit I chose for you. I didn't mean to upset you, Evey, I know you must still be grieving…"

"Oh no, that isn't what you said." Evey cut him off sharply. "You said that V _will_ appreciate it. Not that he _would_ have appreciated it. Is there something you've been keeping from me, Gordon?"

Gordon could barely meet the powerful stare of this woman; and he couldn't contain the secret that had been welled up inside of him any longer. "Evey, I am so sorry, but V made me promise to never tell you. Please, please forgive me."

Gordon had known. He had known that V was alive; she wasn't sure how long he knew, but she could be certain that he had kept it a secret from her. Was it possible that he had known before her? The thought that Gordon would keep V's existence from her while he saw how she was grieving was like a punch in the stomach. Granted, he had kept himself hidden while she needed a friend most. Why was it surprising now to consider the fact that he had hidden far more from her?

"When did you find out?" Evey whispered so quietly that Gordon couldn't understand her. This brought a new wave of anger to the surface, and she leapt to her feet and screamed at him, "How long have you known about him?!"

Gordon looked down at the ground and took a deep breath. Damn this wine, and damn him for letting his guard down. He didn't want to hurt her any more, but he knew that he had to tell her the truth, now that he had let it escape. "Since the eleventh of November. Six days after Parliament was destroyed."

That was the answer she had feared. Evey fell back into the couch she had been lounging in, letting out a sharp puff of breath. How many secrets were still being kept from her? How many lies had been spun by Gordon, V, Melinda, Listler, and everyone else?

"Evey, please, you have to understand why I did it. I told V to go to you. I told him not to hide, but you know how hard it is to talk him into anything. And he made me swear never to tell you. I will not lie to you Evey; V can be a frightening man. But more importantly, I owed him my life. What would you have done in that situation?" Gordon pleaded. He looked helplessly at Philip while Evey remained silent. Philip rose from his perch to sit next to Evey and place a comforting hand on Evey's shoulder.

"V did this for you, Evey. And he did it for the revolution. Can you fault him for that? And can you blame Gordon for being loyal to him?" Philip soothed. Evey let out a sigh, and then relaxed a bit. Philip was absolutely right; and so was Gordon.

But it was still hard to be lied to, no matter the reasons.

"What happened?" Evey asked softly. Now that she knew when Gordon and Philip had found V, she figured that they knew something about his condition after the fifth. He had spared her the details of his injuries the night of their discussion, but that only made Evey worry all the more. Although the fates had been kind and the man she loved was now healthy and sound, she wanted to know what had actually happened, so that perhaps she could put the nightmarish scenarios behind her. If she knew how bad it had been, her imagination wouldn't take things to extremes.

"He contacted us through a letter, asking for supplies. He was staying in a condemned house, until he was well enough to find someplace else. Evey, you know how secretive V is. He didn't tell me anything about his injuries. He seemed well enough we I gave him the supplies he needed. After that, he only contacted me once," Gordon explained. "He wanted to know how our reunion went, and after that, I assume you know the story."

Evey nodded. Yes, this was news indeed. But she could handle it, as she had handled all of the recent bombshells that had shattered her world, changing everything. Evey closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and counted to three before she opened her eyes again.

"I'm sorry, Gordon. I've been a bit of a mess the last few days, what with work being so hectic." Evey managed. It would do for now; she didn't want to have to discuss this any further. She just wanted to move on, so that she could think about this alone.

Gordon nodded in understanding, and he rose to give Evey a comforting embrace, for which she was very thankful. After their hug, the pair broke apart. Gordon suggested some more of the decadent cake Philip had prepared, and Evey had no trouble agreeing to that. They helped themselves to another slice each, and after they had eaten and enjoyed a few more sips of wine, Evey decided that it would be best if she retired for the evening.

They trio shared their goodbyes, promising to get together soon, and Gordon walked Evey out to her car. Gordon held Evey at arm's length and smiled warmly at her.

"I can't tell you how happy I am to know that he's back in your life. You needed him to fill a void that no one else could." Gordon said. A smile broke out onto Evey's face, and she propelled herself into one final embrace. After Gordon released her, Evey got into her small sedan and waited for Gordon to return safely to Philip, who was waiting patiently at the door. Once they had turned in, the car hummed to life, and she drove off into the night.

* * *

Evey was exhausted once she returned to her flat; she must have had a tad too much wine, she reasoned. Feeling slightly dizzy and lightheaded, Evey decided that a nice warm shower was in order to help clear the fog in her mind, and relax her muscles before bed.

Before heading to the bathroom, Evey made a quick detour into her bedroom. She found the old shirt of V's she had taken on the fifth, and a pair of knickers and shorts. Evey held the soft fabric in her hands, thinking back to when she had actually taken the shirt from V's closet in a moment of frailty and weakness. But still, she almost always chose to sleep in the garment. Even Evey had her girlish foibles.

The hot water from the shower did in fact loosen her muscles and bring her some much needed clarity. While she stood under the water, she reflected on dinner with Gordon. It had of course shocked her to know that V had gone to Gordon and not her in his hour of need; and it also hurt her to some degree. Of course she knew _why_ V had wanted to remain hidden from her. But it pained her to know that he had done so, and it pained her even more to know that he and Gordon had kept this a secret.

That had become a theme, recently. Everyone seemed to think it in Evey's best interest to keep secrets from her, to try and "protect" her. In reality, those good intentions only hurt her even more. The weight of being lied to was crushing, especially when it came from those you love most. Leading a revolution was hard enough without facing deception around every corner.

But could she really fault Gordon and V for keeping this from her? As much as Evey wanted to be angry at both of them, she couldn't. Because although they had both caused her immeasurable amounts of anxiety and grief, once they had returned to her life, they had become her rock. Evey could hardly imagine being mad at either of them.

Evey was stirred from her thoughts when the water began to run cold, reminding her that she really ought to be off to bed. She shut off the water and stepped out into the cold air, wrapping herself with a towel. The chill was seeping into Evey's bones, so she quickly shook the excess water out of her hair and dressed. Evey always felt like a small child when she wore this shirt; the sleeves covered her hands while the hem of the shirt hung mid-thigh, hiding her shorts. Her short hair dripped water onto the fabric, making Evey shiver once they absorbed into the fibers and brushed up against her skin.

Padding out into the hallway, Evey made her way slowly to bedroom, swaying slightly because of the wine. Although the shower had made it slightly easier for her to think, it couldn't shake the effect of the alcohol, which still made her dizzy. She dropped her dirty clothes into her hamper and pulled aside the covers on her bed. She crawled in, letting out a sigh of contentment as she curled deeper into the welcoming comfort. She hadn't recalled the bed being this comfortable.

Evey was moments away from sleep when she suddenly remembered that she hadn't locked the front door to her flat. Groaning, Evey swung her feet lazily to the side of the bed and lurched forward, trudging towards the front room. The door seemed quite far, at this moment in time, but Evey was determined to complete her task, despite her mounting exhaustion.

Finally, she made it to the door, after almost tripping over some un-seen object that was hiding in the darkness. Evey threw the deadbolt and slid the chain in to place. With a final look, Evey insured that everything was in place and that she was now safely locked in for the night. She yawned, and turned to head back towards her bedroom.

"Perhaps you should also consider locking the windows."

Any lethargy and wooziness from the wine was immediately purged from Evey's system, replaced by pure adrenaline. Evey gasped, muffling a scream, and fell back against the door, searching the darkness for the intruder. Once she realized who it was, however, she let her guard down.

"Damn it, V! Give me a heart attack, why don't you?" Evey cursed as loudly as she dared, not wanting to alert her neighbors. Her eyes had adjusted well enough, and there was a small bit of light leaking from the hallway, so she had been able to pick up on the glowing visage of Fawkes, standing nonchalantly in the corner. Now, she could see the imposing figure of the man who wore the mask.

"My apologies, Evey. But have I made my point?" V asked, trying to keep the smile out of his voice. Yes, he regretted having to scare her, but it really made his argument quite clear. "What if I had been a man with more sinister intentions?"

With his heightened eye sight, V could see quite well in the dark, and it was quite amusing to watch Evey huff and puff, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

"Alright, I'll lock my windows! But I'm just not fond of the idea of you breaking the locks whenever you want to visit!" Evey replied in an accusatory tone of voice. She fumbled around the room, in the general direction of where she thought the lamp ought to be. Apparently, she was nowhere close, as V casually flicked on the small table lamp that he had been standing next to. Evey rolled her eyes at this. He must have been planning this entire demonstration out for quite some time.

Now, Evey could take a better look at her "intruder". Evey could have sworn that she felt the triumphant, gleeful smile that she was certain was behind the mask. V certainly had a way of making a point when he wanted to.

But with the lights on, V also had a better chance to take a look at the woman _he_ had intruded _on_. The first thing he noticed was that she was wearing that shirt of his; something that his incredible eyesight had neglected to pick up on in the dark. He remembered the night he had returned to her, to find her wearing that same shirt. He remembered how completely heartbreaking it was to him. But now, seeing her in it without the covers to inhibit his view, V had a chance to appreciate it.

V was used to seeing Evey in her work clothes, or just simple, casual clothes. V had of course seen her in the awful prison garb he had forced onto her, but he would block those memories now. Or perhaps replace them with this lovely image. He had always been held captive by her beauty, but somehow, seeing her now in such a comfortable, vulnerable state, V found her utterly breath-taking. The sleeves were rolled up, the hem revealed a very pleasing view of her legs, and her hair was a wet, tangled mess.

She was so incredibly irresistible in this moment; V would have given just about anything for circumstances to be different. But he knew that fate was cruel.

Evey blushed slightly at the intensity of V's gaze, realizing how completely foolish she must look, wearing one of his shirts. She wondered briefly if he was angry with her, but she shook that thought from her mind. But she did have other questions on her mind.

"Now, besides wanting to prove a point and scare the living daylights out of me, was there another point to this visit?"

V smiled slightly. Scaring her and proving his point were actually not even remotely close to his intentions that evening; however, the opportunity had presented itself, and V couldn't resist. He had wanted to check on Evey, and see how her evening went. But more importantly, he wanted to know if Gordon had let slip about their knowing about each other. His plan had been to wait for Evey to return home, but once he realized that she had beaten him to her flat, that was when his secondary plan came to fruition.

"I thought I would see how your evening went. I trust you had a good time?" V said cautiously, not wanting to give anything away incase Gordon hadn't said anything. Evey's eyebrow quirked up, and she cocked her head to the side. V's eyes widened; this was not the reaction he had been expecting. He knew that something was going on; he just didn't know what. And that was what worried him most.

"Oh, it was a wonderful time, as usual." Evey started, seeing how V tensed up. She wanted to draw this out, and watch him squirm. "Philip made some sort of French dish, which was positively _divine_. I'll have to get you the recipe."

V nodded slowly, prompting Evey to continue.

"After dinner, Gordon and Philip told me some wonderful stories. And Gordon told me the most interesting thing, tonight. Do you know what he told me, V?" Evey asked rhetorically.

"No, I'm sure I don't." V lied lamely.

"He told me about a letter he received, on November 11th. Six days after parliament was destroyed. And that isn't what was so extraordinary. Would you like to know, V?" Her hazel eyes were piercing into the black eye screens, and Evey watched with satisfaction as the mask dropped slightly. No, she wasn't angry with him, but now it was _her_ turn to prove a point.

"Evey…"

"The letter was from a man; a man that had supposedly died on the Fifth. Could you imagine? But, you know how Gordon has an affinity for storytelling." V knew that this was Evey's own form of punishment, and that now she was trying to prove something to him.

"Evey, please…" He begged, but she cut him off with a powerful stare.

"I'm not mad, V. But I need you to understand something. Hiding things from me may seem like a way to protect me, but I don't need to be protected. I need to be told the truth. I can handle it; I'm not the same girl you saved from Jordon Tower. You of all people should know that." She felt her heart soften when she saw V's head drop lower, and she reached out to take his hand in hers. "So this is my point, V. You can't hide things from me. Don't ever think you can, or that you have to. Promise me that?"

V raised his head at the pleading in her voice; he absolutely hated lying to her and hiding things from her. He was a fool to think that he had to protect her from everything; she was right, of all people, he should know how strong she was. After all, he was the man who had forged her, and given her that strength.

"I swear to it, Evey." And he knew he couldn't break that promise. Evey smiled, and now that she had made herself clear, she walked right into his arms, forgiving him for his lies, and accepting his new promise.

Once they had broken apart, V once again took notice of Evey's choice of pajamas. Now that he wasn't completely devastated by her grief, he really could find it in his heart to find it endearing, and yes, humbling. To know that she had sought out a part of him to keep her company while he was gone was indeed a pleasant reminder that she did in fact care for him. And that she had kept it, even after they had been reunited, was an even better testament to that fact.

But now, V could also notice that Evey was slightly limp in his arms, and that she seemed to be having trouble holding herself upright. The clock read midnight, meaning that she was exhausted, but V suspected that Gordon had cajoled Evey into indulging that night at dinner. He was keeping her from her much needed rest, and that would not be allowed.

"You should rest, love. You're tired." V suggested softly.

Evey trained her gaze on him once again, although this time, it was far less piercing. V was always using her exhaustion and sleep schedule as an excuse to leave her.

Perhaps it was the last hints of wine talking, or maybe it was the exhaustion, but Evey finally worked up the courage and grabbed V's hand once again. "Only on one condition."

Well _that_ was certainly not the response V had been expecting. He was used to the usual protests of "I'm not that tired" or "I don't even have to work tomorrow" or "I can go in late", but this was a new tactic entirely. He was curious to see where this new strategy would lead.

"And what, pray tell, would that be my dear?" V asked cautiously.

Before she could convince herself otherwise, Evey managed to blurt out, "You have to stay here, with me." Evey watched as every muscle in V's body instantly became taught and the mask moved a fraction to the side, trying to not look directly at her, as though she were a predator.

"Evey, I don't think that that is a very good idea." V stated slowly, trying to maintain his composure. He saw Evey's face fall slightly, but recognized the determination in her face. He had a feeling that this was an argument that he was bound to lose. He wondered if that really was such a bad thing.

"Why not?" Evey challenged, ready to win this battle.

V let out a sharp puff of air, which was accentuated by the mask. Of course he wanted to stay here with her; he had always wanted to stay with her. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. The dark voice at the back of had trapped him with fear. It called him a monster, and reminded him of every possible scenario of Evey leaving. Finally, V came up with the best excuse he could manage.

"You know how important it is that I stay hidden, Evey. What if something were to happen? Surely I would be discovered."

Evey rolled her eyes. "Is that what you really think, V? You could escape in an instant, and you know that as well as I do. What's really going on?"

V dropped his head, and let go of Evey's hand. He was a coward, that's what was going on. He was nothing but a bloody coward. He couldn't stand it. Evey deserved so much more; she deserved everything that he couldn't give to her. It was killing him to know that he couldn't be what Evey needed or wanted.

Evey saw the turmoil playing out within his mind; she could read it in his body language. She stepped forward slowly, and reached out a tentative hand towards the mask. V instinctively shied away, a reaction born from hiding behind a mask for decades, but Evey wasn't deterred. She gently rested her petite hand on the enamel cheek, and looked straight into the screens of the mask.

"V, I know that this is going to take time. But I'll always be right here. Please, V. I just want you to stay here, nothing more. Nothing more. Please." Evey whispered, pleading with him.

V took a deep breath. He couldn't resist her; not when she was pleading with him like that. And besides, Evey was actually requesting that he stay. That fact made V feel a lot better. So against his better judgment, and against the screaming, angry voice in his head, V relented.

"Alright, Evey. If that is what you wish." He replied slowly.

The smile that erupted on Evey's face made it all worthwhile; and so was the feeling of her arms wrapping around him. However, her gorgeous smile and tender gesture did little to calm his nerves, or still his racing heart. To occupy himself, once Evey had released him once again, he stood back to remove his hat and cloak. He hung them both on the small coat rack Evey had standing next to her door. While he was there, he also did a quick double check on the lock.

He turned back to Evey, and a small chuckle escaped his lips. Evey must have been far more tired than she let on; in the process of him removing his cloak and hat, hanging them up, and turning back to her, which he had taken his time in doing, Evey had slumped down into a chair and was now resting with her eyes half closed. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, although Evey didn't seem to be complaining.

Deciding that Evey was probably far too unstable to walk her way to her bedroom, V took matters into his own hands by scooping her up into his arms. Evey's eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, while she protested feebly, but just as quickly, she settled down and rested her head against his chest. V was thankful that she was probably too tired to register his rapidly beating heart.

Once inside of Evey's room, V placed her delicately onto the mattress in the spot she had been resting before she got up. He watched in amusement as Evey immediately curled up into a comfortable position and wrapped some blankets around herself. V stroked her cheek gently, before he decided to make his exit. She appeared to be asleep now, and would never know if he spent the night outside in her sitting room. He doubted he would be able to sleep anyway.

But Evey seemed to have other ideas, because she seemed to become lucid the moment he had reached the doorway.

"V?" Came her one-syllable question. V sighed softly.

"Yes, Evey?" He turned back, and saw that Evey had reached a hand out from underneath her extensive covers. She beckoned to him, and once he had come close enough, she trapped his hand in hers.

"Stay." Was all she managed to breathe out. She closed her eyes, but still held her grip firm on his hand. With a small smirk at this wonderful woman's determination, V obeyed. He released her hand, which seemed to rouse Evey slightly. But he only walked to the other side of her bed, where he sat down on the edge to remove his leather boots and place them neatly at the foot of the bed. With a final deep, calming breath, V eased the rest of his body down onto the empty side of Evey's bed. He made no move towards her, though. Being the gentleman he was, V didn't want to appear too forward. He would let Evey come to him, if that is what she so desired.

He didn't have to wait long, as Evey soon flopped over onto her side to face V. She squired closer to him, trying to go slowly so as to not make him uncomfortable. She paused for only a second, at V's sharp gasp at her arm resting across his stomach, but then continued to scoot closer, until her head finally rested on V's chest. She was exhausted, but the beating of V's heart still managed to bring a soft smile to her lips.

V finally seemed to relax a few minutes later, and he draped his arm around Evey, drawing her the last few inches closer to him. And that was when Evey finally relaxed completely, as well. Before she could be completely pulled under, Evey opened her eyes slightly to find the mask. She squirmed up slightly, just enough so that she could plant a delicate kiss on Fawkes' cold cheek. Evey smiled when she heard V's contented sigh. The smile grew even wider as she heard him whisper softly,

"Oh, how I love you, Evey."

And then, the warmth and comfort of lying peacefully with V lulled Evey into a deep slumber.

* * *

A loud buzzing alarm jolted Evey awake early that morning. It was her morning alarm, signaling her to get up. But actually getting up would prove to be a daunting challenge, especially given the wonderful night's sleep she had had last night. She had V to thank for that. Evey rolled over to greet V, but was shocked to find his side of the bed completely empty. Furrowing her brow, Evey sat upright, turned off her alarm, and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She looked around her bedroom again. V was nowhere to be found, and neither were his boots.

Evey was now worried that something had happened. Had he left once she had fallen asleep, to terrified to be with her? Had she offended him in some way? Was he angry with her? Or perhaps, she was looking at this in the wrong way. Perhaps V had already gotten up, and was just waiting for her out in the sitting room. Deciding to go investigate, Evey rose quickly and walked down the hallway and into the main room.

"V?" She called out, and received no answer. She walked into the kitchen next, but knew V wasn't in there because she couldn't hear the familiar sounds of clanking kitchen ware and sizzling food.

However, she was rewarded with an interesting clue. A piece of her own stationary was left lying out on the counter, which she found suspect. She never left her stationary lying around, especially in the kitchen. Once she had snatched the piece of paper from the counter, Evey was relieved to see the familiar, elegant handwriting of V:

_My Dear Evey, _

_My most sincere apologies for having left you alone this morning. I wanted to remain with you until you rose, but that would not have been practical, as I needed the cover of darkness to make my back to the Gallery. I'm sure that you understand. I hope that your day is as wonderful as my evening was last night. I hope to see you in the Gallery soon. Yours, _

_V_

Evey read the letter twice, just to appreciate how wonderful it was. It was so very "V". And it was a wonderful start to her day, which would now assuredly be as "wonderful as my evening was last night." She took the letter and placed it on her nightstand, where she could look at it again later that night when she returned from work.

Evey had just sat down to watch the morning news with a cup of coffee, when she was startled by the loud ring of her cell phone. Quickly muting the tele and placing her cup down, Evey hurried over to her desk, where she had left her phone last night. The caller ID said Eric Finch, and showed a picture of him looking annoyed at his desk.

The picture always made Evey smile; she had taken it when she discovered the caller ID function on her phone, and had caught Eric while he was engrossed in his work. Needless to say, he was not pleased with her interruption.

"Hello, Eric." Evey answered. Evey could hear lots of chatter in the background, in addition to lots of shuffling papers. She was pretty sure she could hear Dominic Stone barking orders at some of his underlings. She thought that perhaps Finch had called her on accident, until she heard his voice at the other end of the line.

"Sorry about that, Evey. Did I wake you?" Eric asked.

"No, of course not. I was just getting ready to come in. Is everything alright? What's all the commotion about?" She heard more slamming doors, voices, and the general sounds of an office in turmoil.

"Everything is better than alright, Evey. I just called to give you the good news: We did it."

Evey creased her forehead and pursed her lips. What exactly had they done? She was still a tad drowsy, and had not yet had her morning coffee. She wasn't quite firing on all synapses this morning. Eric seemed to understand her silence as confusion, so he spoke up once again.

"We pulled the plug last night. Well, this morning more like. The Ear and The Eye, Evey. They're gone." Evey could hear the beaming smile in Eric's voice, even through all of the commotion in the office building. "That's why things are such a mess around here; we're trying to get everything back online with the new system, and we're also trying to tie up loose ends of the mission."

Now, Evey was silent because of her astonishment. The Eye and The Ear? Gone? That meant that the last remnants of the Norsefire regime were dead; save for The Finger, which she assumed was dwindling by the day. They had finally shaken the horrible shackles of that ruthless administration. They were on their way to recovery.

England was free.

Years ago, Evey wouldn't have even dared to hope for such a miraculous statement. But now, it was true. It was real. After so many years of oppression and fear, the English people had been liberated.

"Evey?" Eric sounded slightly concerned at the other end of the line.

That shook her from her silence.

"Sorry, Eric. I was just…shocked. This is incredible! What's the soonest I can make an address?" Evey knew that it was crucial to report this news, and report it soon. The people had to see that this new government was not about secrets.

Eric chuckled on the other end of the line.

"We have everything all set up, we just need you here as soon as you're ready."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes." And with that, Evey hung up the phone and launched herself towards her bedroom. Of course, today of all days, would be the day she couldn't find the garment she was looking for. Finally, after completely emptying most of her dresser drawers and frantically digging through her closest, Evey was able to produce what she had been searching for: A black, long sleeved turtle neck. She threw on a pair of dark jeans and a pair of black flats, quickly ran the brush through her short, messy hair, and bounded out of her flat.

The drive took her less time than she had anticipated, but her misadventures with the shirt caused her to be about five minutes late. The guards at the front door of Eric's office building nodded her in curtly, which Evey didn't mind. She didn't have time for the trivial formalities. Eric's secretary Jenna, however, proved to be more talkative.

"Oh, Ms. Hammond! I had no idea that Mr. Finch was expecting you this morning. Let me just page him to make sure he knows you're here…" It seemed to Evey that she was moved slightly slower than a snail. She rolled her eyes as the woman dropped her pencil, and took an eternity to bend down and pick it up. Finally, she cut in.

"Thank you, Jenna, but Eric knows I'm here, and I'm actually running late." Evey tried to hint, without being rude.

"Oh this will only take a moment, Ms. Hammond." Jenna said with a bright, chipper smile. She picked up the phone and dialed Finch. While she waited for an answer, Evey was suddenly quite grateful to have a secretary like Ms. Hayes. She was all business, and knew not to keep people waiting. Not that she had the capacity for idle chit-chat.

Finally, after a few brief words, Jenna hung up the phone and smiled brightly at Evey. She was a pretty woman, slightly older than Evey was. Her blond hair was always pin-strait and perfect, to match her perfect, pearly-white smile. It sometimes unnerved Evey with how happy she always seemed.

"Eric is up in his office. Go on up, you know the way."

But Evey was already making her way around Jenna's desk and towards the elevators. Now she was running closer to ten minutes late. The elevator seemed to be running at half speed, and Evey bounced her leg impatiently as it made its way to the top floor. She was incredibly eager to get this news to the public, and everything seemed to want to slow her down.

Once the elevator finally opened, Evey strode quickly to Eric's office, and didn't even bother to knock. Finch looked up, startled from whatever he had been staring at on his desk.

"Good morning to you, too, Evey." He began sarcastically. "Are you ready to go? The production team is waiting, and I've had the speech you wrote edited to include the details."

Eric rose, gathering some of his papers, and motioned for Evey to go back through the door and follow him, which she did. They walked back through the task room, which was now quieting down, and back into the elevator. Then, they left and walked into the parking garage, where they got into Finch's car.

The drive to the BTN took less than five minutes, but Evey was impatient nonetheless. Once they finally made it into the building, the secretary escorted the pair through a winding maze of hallways that Evey knew well from her days at the BTN. It led to the production room, where she now made her addresses to the people. They had actually given this entire room to her cause, and wouldn't allow anything but her speeches to be produced here, so that the set could become more permanent.

Once inside the room, Evey was whisked away by a team of make-up artists and members of the production staff, who were briefing her on the speech. She was used to this hustle and bustle now, although she still wasn't fond of being primped by the make up team. As usual, she refused to allow them to cake on the makeup, and insisted only on mascara and lipstick. She did not, however, refuse any of the attention that they paid to her hair. They were pleased that she had grown her out some, so that they actually had something to work with.

Now that she looked presentable, Evey was escorted to the set, where she sat on the uncomfortable wooden stool behind the facsimile of V's desk. A few last minute details and touch ups were seen to, and then everyone back up behind the camera to watch. Evey watched the teleprompter, although she had her parts of the speech memorized. She had to wait for the changes Eric had made. Then she nodded, and a large red light blinked three times, before turning solid.

She was on air, addressing all of England:

"England, I am addressing you this morning to present you with the news of your freedom; your _complete_ freedom. The Eye and The Ear, bitter remnants of the previous regime, have been the last fragments of Norsefire to haunt and torture you. But no more.

Those factions of a corrupt system have been vanquished, thanks to the diligent work and sacrifice of your Prime Minister, your Head Inspector, and all those working with them. It was a long process, but it came to fruition last night, as your government led the raid against these rebellious factions.

The leaders who had held out against us were taken prisoner, and will be held accountable for their crimes. The cameras, listening devices, and surveillance trucks that had supplied these traitors with your fears and secrets, have all been either destroyed, or permanently shut off. They can no longer hear or see you; you are free to do as you wish, without fear of being watched.

England, it is important for you to realize that the last hold they had on you is gone. We have come far; we are all learning how to live our lives without fear. I know that it is a struggle, and will continue to be so. But know this: you need not fear Norsefire any longer. They cannot harm you for what you say, do, or think. And we cannot either. With the fall of these two factions, we are now an entirely free country. Free of corruption and of fear; and free to become the great people I know we are.

V would look down on this moment as a triumph; as a victory. And that is what it should be seen as, and what it will always be remembered as for years to come. It has been almost a year since V gave us the chance at freedom, and he would be thrilled to know that we have seized this opportunity and held onto it with veracious tenacity. V would be so proud of how far we have come.

But we have so much farther to go! We will continue to strive forward, and let this serve as a reminder to anyone who should threaten the peace and security of our great country. We will not back down. We will persevere. And we shall never, ever be forgot!"

After she finished, with a grand show of emotion, the red light switched off and the entire room burst into applause and loud cheers. Evey let out a huge breath, and then rose from her stool, beaming. This is exactly what V had wanted for her, and for this country. She had lived up to the promise she made him, when she pulled the lever on the train almost a year ago.

Stepping out of the hot lights, Evey was met with hugs, claps on the back, and huge smiles all around. Eric Finch gave her an enormous hug, and flashed her one of the largest smiles she had ever seen him wear. He laughed softly, "We did it, Evey. _You_ did it." Evey laughed at that as well, and gave him one last hug before she was drawn into the arms of another.

"Evey! That was absolutely brilliant!" Evey was shocked to be in Philip's arms, who was beaming almost as brightly as Finch was. She laughed in surprise, and laughed again when she looked over Philip's shoulder to find Gordon standing there, with a proud smirk on his face. He looked almost like a proud father, trying not to leap up and down at a child's success.

"Philip, Gordon, I didn't even notice you here! What are you doing?" Evey smiled brightly at the pair, who were now standing side by side.

"How could we ever pass up a chance to watch the talented Evey Hammond at work?" Gordon smiled. "We also thought that it might be a good day to take you out to lunch, to celebrate."

Evey laughed at how thoughtful her two friends were. "I would be delighted to go out to lunch. I have some afternoon meetings, so lunch is exactly what the doctor ordered."

So after saying goodbye to Eric, and reminding him of their afternoon meetings, Evey, Philip, and Gordon all left the BTN in high spirits. Walking through the streets of the now free England was an incredible thing to watch; people were out in the streets, laughing, talking, and celebrating. It was amazing, and the trio smiled the entire way to the restaurant.

* * *

V had returned to the gallery early that morning; he was gone before the sun had even peaked over the horizon. He needed the cover of darkness to ensure that he made his way back to the Gallery unseen, but leaving so early, especially while he had curled up with Evey, took incredible amounts of willpower.

V had admittedly not slept a wink that night; his nerves were completely fried, and his heart didn't slow until he was traipsing around the rooftops and streets of London. He was convinced that had he gone to sleep, something bad would have happened. He would have been discovered. Evey would wake up, and realize that she had made a mistake. Or, that he already was dreaming, and once he fell asleep, he would be plunged back into reality. None of those sounded pleasant, so V remained awake.

Aside from his racing heart, however, V was incredibly content to lay here, feeling Evey curled against him. He could feel the soft rise and fall of her chest against his side, and a warm spot grew on his chest where Evey continued to exhale peacefully.

It was a glorious feeling, do actually be wanted. It was hard for him to grasp, but he hoped that with time he would come to understand it. He hated how nervous he always was, and how his self-loathing always seemed to hold him back. He despised the voice in the back of his head. But he had noticed that with Evey's tenderness, the voice was actually becoming quieter.

Once he had returned to the Gallery, V busied himself with preparing breakfast and a pot of tea. He turned the news on, mostly for background noise, but also in case he heard anything useful. Once he fell into the easy rhythm that came with cooking, and began to hum softly to himself, V felt a sense of calm washing over him. He hadn't felt this way in quite some time, and he was sure that he had a certain young woman to thank for that.

Now, with his eggs prepared, V sat down at his small kitchen table to eat. Eating, much like dressing, was somewhat of a ritual for V, and it was filled with routine. First, V would set out his plate and silverware, followed by whatever he had decided to drink. In this case, and what usually was the case, was a cup of tea. Then, after seating himself, V would slowly untie his mask and let the cool air rush onto his marred face. He could breath uninhibited, and V would usually suck in several large, deep breaths of air. Then, with the utmost of care, V would set the mask down on the left side of his plate. He usually left the wig on, as he preferred to keep it on the wig stand when he wasn't wearing it.

V ate quickly, as he always did, as spending long periods of time without the mask on usually made him uncomfortable. Once he was finished, he brushed his teeth, applied his medicated lotions, and then donned the mask once again.

It was while he was returning to the main room of the Gallery when he heard the tele cut out for just a moment, and then heard a very familiar voice. Evey. V spun around to face the screen, and his face lit up when he saw that Evey was now sitting in the replica of his study, addressing London. V hurried over to the couch and took a seat, leaning forward to listen intently. What he heard came as a very pleasant surprise.

The Ear and They Eye had been brought down, at long last.

V let out a deep sigh, and fell back, propping himself up on the couch. This was what he had dreamed of for years. England's freedom. Of course, he had his own personal motivations for starting his vendetta, but he still wanted to free the people who had anguished under this abominable system.

And now, V perked up again as he heard Evey mention him.

"_V would see this moment as a triumph; as a victory…" _

His heart swelled with pride as he continued to listen to her speech. Of course he was proud of the English people for rising up; but he was far more proud of Evey for fulfilling his life's ambitions, and continuing on his work. He was so proud of Evey for leading the people like he always knew she was capable of doing with a nudge in the right direction.

As Evey finished her speech, V was beaming with happiness and pride. It was the final domino of Norsefire to topple down. After twenty long years of plotting his revenge, after nearly giving his life to his vendetta, he had finally done it.

_They_ had done it.

**A/N Oh my goodness, I am SO glad that I actually got this done. Again, I'm so sorry that I didn't update when I said I would. Life really kind of caught up with me :P Any who, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! It's the longest one yet! Updates will be happening more frequently once my season is over, but I'm hoping for a shorter one to be in the next few weeks on some days we don't have school. No promises. R&R guys, thanks so much for all of your lovely support :) **


	15. Chapter 15

**Sorry for the delay, lovelies, but here is an update! Enjoy!**

Chapter 15

"Gordon, I'm speechless!"

Evey was beaming as she twirled in front of the mirror in her dressing room, admiring the beautiful garment that graced her slender figure.

"You like it?" Gordon asked, smiling broadly at making such an excellent choice in her wardrobe.

"I absolutely adore it, Gordon. Honestly." Evey twirled once more before she took a final look in the mirror. The dress was a deep, violet satin that glimmered softly in the light. It was strapless, and Evey was thankful that Gordon had selected a number that wasn't too revealing. The dress did flatter her though, accenting her more favorable features, while downplaying her flaws. The skirt flared out slightly, and fell right above her knees.

"Wonderful! I do pride myself in having good taste, but I was worried about you and your pickiness." Gordon winked. He rose from his seat then, and presented Evey with yet another box. He had been shoving them at her since the moment she arrived there at the BTN headquarters, showering her will all things needed to become a television star.

Evey rolled her eyes; _another_ box? Evey wondered what else he had decided to box and wrap in a ribbon. Everything had been prepared in this fashion: the dress, her jewelry, a hair clip, even her shampoos and soaps. She sat down, and proceeded to unveil the newest surprise.

Of course. How could she have forgotten about the shoes?

"Gordon, you overestimate my coordination. How on earth am I going to walk in these?" Evey raised an eyebrow questioningly as she picked up one of the shoes that had been tucked neatly inside the box. The heel was far taller than she was used to wearing by almost an inch.

Gordon rolled his eyes at this. "All you have to do is walk the twenty feet out to the chair, and the twenty feet back. Really, Evey, I trust that even you can handle it." He offered Evey his seat so that she could put on the heels. He watched in amusement as Evey struggled, and laughed all the more as Evey stood wobbling like a new born foal.

"Perhaps I've misjudged your abilities to walk that short distance." Gordon laughed, and held out his arm to support Evey and prevent her from falling. She took a few more precarious steps while hanging on his arm, until finally she was able to take more confident strides without his assistance.

"Let's just hope I don't fall over myself while everyone in England is watching!" Evey let a nervous trill into her laugh, catching herself by surprise. With all of Gordon's distractions, she had been able to keep her mind off of the butterflies that had been slowly building in her stomach. Of course she was used to being on the tele, but this was very different. She was meant to be charming, funny, and beautiful; she had to fit the roll of "Princess of the Revolution" rather than V's fierce accomplice. While she was simply making an address, however, all she had to do was read her own speech with inflection in certain places. She never had to worry about laughing at a hosts' jokes, or interacting with a studio audience, or answering Gordon's questions.

The questions. Those were what really troubled her. The idea that she was going to sit on stage and be interrogated was unnerving. The personal questions she knew Gordon would be asking were hard for her to answer. But at the same time, they were the answers that she knew the people needed.

The butterflies were stirred to action once again when there was a sharp rapping on the doorway, and a small feminine voice called out, "We're on in five, Mr. Deitrich."

Evey shot a worried glance at Gordon, who only let out a soft chuckle.

"For someone as insanely brave as you are, you would think that a talk show interview would pose no problems." Gordon stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders. "Evey, you'll do great. You know the questions, and you've already prepared answers. Someone will come get you in a little while when it's time for you to come on, alright?"

At that point, the young woman returned and knocked once more before actually opening the door. "Mr. Deitrich?" She looked rather annoyed at having to retrieve him once again. Gordon dismissed her with a flippant wave of his hand before giving Evey one last smile and a gentle, fatherly kiss on the cheek.

He followed the assistant out then, leaving Evey alone in her dressing room. She plopped down into the more comfortable seat in her dressing room and sighed quite loudly. What was she getting herself in to?

"Good evening, London!"

V had heard this phrase, and even uttered it himself, many times since the start of the revolution. But he had never heard it said with such enthusiasm or charisma as when Gordon said it as he traipsed his way across the stage.

Although V considered Gordon to be a good man, and even a friend, he had never before watched his talk show since it had started again. This time of night, when he was not on the prowl for rebel activity, V was usually wrapped up in a book or in more recent nights, wrapped up with Evey. But tonight, Evey was the subject of Gordon's show, and V wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Gordon began the show by launching into his humorous opening monologue, looking dapper as ever in his fancy suit and clean shaven face. But V only partially listened; he was really only interested in Evey's interview, and anything else Gordon might have to say in regards to the revolution. But he knew that any matters of substance would come on later in the show, so for the moment, he was entertaining himself with his chess set.

In his twenty years of solitude, V had never had an opponent to play chess with, and when Evey had first come to him, he wouldn't have dared to suggest that they play together. So, in order to keep up with one of his favorite hobbies, V had begun to play alone, trying to outsmart himself each and every move. This method had actually allowed him to become an incredibly proficient chess player. V was waiting for the perfect day to challenge Evey to a match, and see how good he really was.

Now, he was playing with the ebony set, moving his knight up and over as the rules dictated in order to protect the queen, which had fallen into a trap of his own design. He continued nonchalantly like this for several minutes, not taking a preference for either set, but letting the game play out as it may. V often resorted to this chess set when he had reached some mental block or obstacle in his planning. It forced him to think clearly, and also objectively.

V was in the process of checking the ivory king when he noticed that Gordon had returned from his commercial break, and was now beginning to introduce his first guest. V took the introduction as a chance to set the board aside and reset the pieces, so that he could start a new game after the show. Once the board was in its rightful place, V settled himself on the couch and began to watch.

"Our first guest this evening is someone that we all know. She has been in our homes, our offices, and our lives for the past year. She has led us in times of trouble, and will continue to do so as we prosper once again. She was once a wanted terrorist, but I'm happy to say that the charges have all been dropped. Please give a warm welcome to our very own Princess of the Revolution, Evey Hammond!" Gordon motioned over to the grand, golden curtains that were now drawing apart. The audience was going absolutely mad, cheering and clapping, and the frenzy only grew once the guest in question stepped out onto the stage.

V had to catch his breath when he first saw Evey walk out onto the stage. Her first few steps were rather unsteady and unsure, and her smile was rather timid. But once she had taken a few steps, she strode out confidently with a beaming smile. Her tight curls bounced as she walked rather precariously on a high set of heels. V followed the strappy shoes all the way up the long curves of Evey's legs before he reached the satin fabric that graced her figure. She was absolutely radiant in the dress that Gordon had chosen; V was certainly very appreciative of his choice. After Evey had waved a few times to the crowd and had given Gordon the obligatory hug and greeting, Gordon escorted her to a plush armchair, where she perched lightly.

It was obvious to V that Evey was quite nervous; but to the rest of London, he knew that her charade of confidence was fool proof. The little foibles that V had picked up on in his time with Evey were evident now; she was fidgeting with a bracelet that she wore, and her foot bounced up and down at an irregular beat. Her final tell was her constant biting of her cheek; it was slight, but V could easily pick up on it. But when she spoke, Evey kept her voice even and calm.

"Ms. Hammond, let me begin by telling you what an honor it is to have you here on the show!" Gordon said with a charming smile. Evey laughed softly, which V found quite endearing.

"Well it's an honor to be here."

"So, Evey, let's start from the beginning. We've all heard the rumors; you and V were childhood friends and conspired together. V kidnapped you and forced you into cooperation, or even the other way around. Or that V saved your life, and you both fell desperately in love and vowed to vanquish the government together. We know the speculations; but how did you really get dragged into all of this?" Gordon asked as his first question. V had to chuckle slightly at how close Gordon was with his last statement. V had saved Evey's life, and _he_ had fallen in love. It took him longer to find out and actually accept that she had as well. Although the way Gordon described it was certainly more romantic than what had actually transpired.

Evey's reaction seemed to indicate that she too had noticed how close Gordon's final guess was to being correct. She raised her eyebrows slightly as he mentioned it, and a slight blush crawled up her neck. However, V doubted that anyone would notice that, as no one in London would be watching Evey as closely as he. And if they were, he might just have to pay that someone a visit.

"Some rumors have more merit to them than others. I can assure you that V and I were not childhood friends, and he didn't kidnap me and force me to cooperate. And _I _certainly didn't kidnap _him_." V had to laugh yet again as he listened to Evey respond. He was trying to picture how that situation would play out. "But V did save my life, the night he destroyed the Old Bailey. And after that, I saved his life. Of course, he turned around and returned the favor immediately. But after that meeting, he knew that I was a wanted terrorist. So he kept me hidden, and we struck up a close friendship."

"And when did you become a revolutionary?"

"I'll admit; it took me a while to figure out what I thought of the whole mess. I was scared, but V showed me a way past my fear so that I could do what I knew was right." V saw the tightness in Evey's face as she mentioned this; it was an incredibly generous way to describe the horrors he had inflicted upon her. He felt his own features twisting in a mixture of anger and pain. "My parents had also been revolutionaries before they died, so I suppose you could say I've had many influences in my life."

Gordon seemed to notice the tension in Evey's posture, as he quickly changed the subject.

"Many people expected you to take a more significant role in the new Government, like a political office. Why didn't you?"

V watched as Evey bit her cheek and looked up to the ceiling, thinking. "I wanted to lead, but I never really wanted to have such power or authority. I just felt that that was a job for someone else. V sent me down this path, and I wanted to send the people down their own path as well." She responded.

This brought a soft smile to V's true, mottled visage; he couldn't have been more pleased to hear Evey's words. It meant that she understood. She understood, but more importantly, she had accepted his own motivations.

"Speaking of leaders, do you have any news in regards to the upcoming elections?"

Evey nodded, "The elections are still set for the fifth, and the ballot is coming along. We'll actually be issuing some pamphlets in the coming weeks to give everyone the information they need to make an informed decision. So everyone, make sure you get out and vote! This is your government." Evey addressed the people directly.

"So I take it that we won't find your name on the ballot anytime soon?" Gordon chuckled.

Evey laughed right along, "That would be correct. I won't be accepting any political office, save for the semi-political office I have now."

"And that would be director of the English Cultural Department. A lot of people don't really know what you do, exactly. How have things been going there?"

"Things have been moving along really well. Essentially, my department is trying to get England back on its feet in the cultural sense. We want to return London to the cultural hotspot that it used to be. Many of you may have noticed the museums opening again, and the Norsefire propaganda being torn down. It's a slow process, but the department is responsible for all of these changes."

"Well you all have been doing a wonderful job, I must say. Are the rumors of a revolution museum true? Or is that classified information?" Gordon asked with a wink.

Without missing a beat, Evey gave Gordon a very serious look before responding, "If I told you that, Mr. Deitrich, I would have to kill you."

There was a roar of laughter and applause from the crowd, and the pair on stage smiled and laughed with them. It shouldn't have surprised V to see Evey coming alive on stage, nor should it have surprised him that the audience absolutely adored her. She was quite the renaissance woman, he thought with a smirk. Was it any wonder he was in love with her?

"But in all seriousness, we are currently working on the plans for the museum. We'll begin construction within the next few months, once the last of the designs have been approved. I'm very excited to share this project with everyone; this is by far my favorite project, and I'm very passionate about it."

"Would you be willing to give us a hint or two?" Gordon asked playfully. Evey laughed, causing another shiver to run down V's spine.

"All I'm going to say about it is that it really is something special. It has something for everyone, because it's everyone's revolution."

Gordon rolled his eyes dramatically, "Well if you aren't going to give us anything in regards to the museum, perhaps you'll indulge us in some more personal matters."

Now, V was certain that anyone watching the show could have picked up on how stiff Evey had become when Gordon mentioned that. Evey had told him that Gordon had given her a list of questions he would ask her; based on her current reaction, personal questions hadn't been on the list. V's own anxiety was starting to build. What could Gordon possibly ask her that would make her so uncomfortable?

But as quickly as the tension appeared, it vanished, Evey coughing slightly to cover up her small misstep before smiling at Gordon. "I suppose, although there really isn't much to tell."

"Nonsense, everyone has an interesting story to tell!" Gordon started. "Now I want to just get this question out of the way, because I know this is the one that everyone is dying to hear."

Once again, the tension was back in Evey's posture and try as she might to hide it, V could easily see the falseness behind her smile. She was back to fidgeting with her bracelet as well, and V wished that he could have intervened right then and there so as to remove her from this uncomfortable situation. Oh V knew that Evey would be able to hold her own in this conversation, but it was distressing to say the least as he watched her squirm, and have no way of assisting her.

"Go on," Evey stated stiffly.

"Are you seeing anyone? A charming, influential woman like yourself is bound to have many admirers."

"Are you asking for you, or for a friend?" Evey quipped, completely deflecting the question. This caused the audience to burst into laughter once again, Gordon laughing right along with them. But V saw through this clever retort as a way of buying herself more time to actually answer the question.

And what would she say? What _could_ she say? 'Oh yes, Gordon, I'm currently seeing the terrorist V, whom everyone believes to be dead.' That certainly wouldn't be her response. But he saw the conflict in Evey's eyes. She didn't want to lie, but the truth would have devastating consequences.

Could V also admit that he was terrified that she was ashamed to be with him? And that would keep her silent? This was of course the dark, angry voice rattling around in his head again, but the voice was powerful. It bent him to its own will, leaving him powerless to defend himself from its vicious attacks. He was forced to listen to it constantly. He tried to shake this thought; after all, he knew the logical reason that Evey couldn't say anything.

Yes, he would admit that this thought was there inside his mind. But he would not bow to the thought; he would fight against it, and wait for Evey's answer.

Gordon's voice snapped him back to attention.

"Oh I have many friends who would love to know, my dear. But I just want to do my civic duty as a reporter of the news." Gordon fired back. Now, he was staring expectantly at Evey. Her face was still plagued with conflict, and finally she took a deep breath and began her answer.

"I gave you a misleading answer, earlier. I said that V and I struck up a close friendship, which was true. But it developed into so much more than that. I fell in love with V. Completely, irrevocably in love. And I didn't have the chance to tell him that before he died. So I won't ever be 'seeing anyone'. I wouldn't ever be able to."

Gordon knit his brows together. "Why is that, Evey?"

Then, Evey let her eyes flicker over to the camera, ever so slightly. It was just enough so that V's own eyes met with hers. She wasn't talking to Gordon anymore, this he knew. Now, she was personally addressing him.

"Because I gave my heart to V; and he took it with him. He'll always have it. It belongs to him, so it could never belong to another." Evey finished with a soft smile, and a few tears welled up in her eyes.

V had been waiting for his answer, and he certainly had one now. He wondered how many blows like that it would take to silence that wicked voice in his mind once and for all. Even Guy Fawkes' charming smile couldn't have come close to rivaling that of V's, and V actually had to remove the mask for a brief moment to wipe away the two, fat tears that had caught in the corner of his eyes.

The audience was now on its feet, and the applause was almost deafening. At this point, Gordon rose, taking Evey with him, and gave her a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Evey Hammond, everybody! We'll be right back after the break with our next guest!"

V watched as Evey smiled and waved at the crowd for a few seconds, before the screen flashed to a commercial break. Would he ever stop being proud of his incredible woman? Would there ever be a day where she didn't completely surprise him and make him fall even deeper in love? He hoped that he would never see that day.

V was never impulsive. It simply wasn't in his nature. He always carefully thought out and strategized his every move. But something inside of him made him forget every part of being logical. V quickly rose, shut off the tele, donned his hat and cape, and strode out of the Shadow Gallery and into the dark London night.

Once the cameramen had given the all clear, Evey and Gordon both walked backstage. And once there, Evey turned sharply on her heel and jabbed an accusatory finger at Gordon, anger seeping from her pores.

"What on _earth_ was that?" Evey seethed. "I thought we were sticking to the questions you wrote out for me!"

Gordon held up his hands in defense, trying to look as innocent as possible. "Evey, what was I supposed to do?"

"Stick to the questions!" Evey shouted. She threw up her hands in exasperation and let out an angry groan. "Gordon, how was I supposed to answer that? Don't you think a little heads up would have been nice?"

"Evey you answered it exactly as you would have had I given you time to prepare. Of course, it was the truth wrapped up in a lie, but is that not the way you feel?"

Evey opened her mouth to fire off another biting retort, but found that she didn't have one. It was true; given the circumstances, that truly was the best answer she could have given and still have been truthful to herself and more importantly, to V. That didn't change the fact that she would have liked a little time to prepare, however. So with one last sneer in Gordon's general direction, Evey turned on her heel and stormed down the hallway towards her dressing room. She could hear Gordon laughing behind her as she went.

The first thing Evey did when she entered her dressing room was plop down in the nearest chair and yank the shoes off of her feet. This act was soon followed by throwing them across the room, in the general direction of the box they had come in. Once she was free of the shoes, she stood and retrieved a pair of jeans and a shirt. Evey quickly shed the constricting layer of purple satin and let it pool on the floor at her feet. Now that she had on some normal clothing, Evey's next move was to the bathroom to wash off the excessive makeup that had been plastered onto her face.

Evey felt much better once she had washed away all of the makeup, even after her moment of revulsion as she watched the water in the sink run with color. Although she had furiously refused more than her usual amount of makeup, Gordon was persistent; he explained that the lights used on the show were far brighter than in her address, and any flaw would be easily picked up on camera. He pleaded with her for a good five minutes before Evey had finally agreed to be painted up like a porcelain doll. If it would make Gordon happy, or at least pacify him, she would do it.

Evey was walking out of the bathroom when she finally noticed that something was amiss in her small room. It was a wonder she hadn't noticed it earlier. Sitting on the vanity was the most beautiful bouquet of violets, wrapped in a white ribbon. Evey could hardly contain the smile that erupted onto her face; there was only one person who would send her violets. Evey immediately located the small card that was tied on the ribbon.

_My Dearest Evey, _

_Your performance tonight was magnificent, and you looked positively radiant. I thought the violets would be fitting for my own dear Viola, as you know the connotation roses carry for me. Congratulations on a wonderful show. _

_Might I also add that violet is a wonderful color on you, love? _

That was all, as anything further could have given away his true identity. Evey couldn't stop the small tears of happiness that now slid down her cheek. She pressed a soft kiss into the paper, having to make do with that until she could present the mask with one. Then, she quickly slipped the paper into her pocket, grabbed the fragrant bouquet and made her way out of the dressing room.

It was a challenge to maneuver through the congested production area, as interns and assistants buzzed about constantly, all moving full speed ahead, shouting orders, and never slowing down. One young man was so focused on his current task that he nearly knocked Evey over. Evey had to perform some incredible acrobatic feats to steer out of his way, and keep the flowers safe.

Finally out of the madhouse, Evey was welcomed by the brisk, London air. She only paused for a moment to enjoy it, however. Evey had somewhere she would rather be.

It took her a moment to transfer the vase to her other hand and search her purse for her car keys, and try and open the door. After nearly dropping the vase, and successfully dropping the keys, Evey was able to rather un-gracefully squirm her way into her small car and get the flowers situated on the passenger seat. Evey was _finally_ on her way home, and to the person who mattered most.

It was hardly a shock to find V lounging nonchalantly on her small sofa, reading a book; in fact, Evey had been expecting it. But it was still bizarre, seeing V in her small flat. He didn't quite fit in; Evey was so used to seeing him surrounded by either the cityscape or the wonderful treasures of the Shadow Gallery. Yet somehow, the fact that V seemed so out of place seemed to make the moment all the more wonderful.

V remained silent, watching, as Evey quickly placed the bouquet he had brought her on the kitchen counter and dropped her purse next to it. Her eyes only left his when she had entered the kitchen; she had completely entranced him with her commanding stare.

Evey situated herself next to V on the couch, who welcomed her into his embrace without a second's hesitation or even a flinch, which Evey took great note of. Once she had curled comfortably into his arms, she stared up at him with a smile.

"Hello, V."

He chuckled at the simplicity of her statement. So many things could have been said, and she seemed to say it all in those two words. "Hello Evey."

"Thank you for the flowers, V. They're gorgeous."

"They paled in comparison to you, love. You wear the color even better than they do." V offered, being entirely truthful.

"So I take it that Orsino was pleased?" Evey smiled wistfully, alluding to the note that was attached to the violets. Behind the mask, V's smile matched that of Evey's.

"Oh he wasn't nearly as pleased as I, and if so, perhaps I should have a word with the Duke himself." V quipped. Evey laughed softly, something that always sent V's heart racing.

V found himself absent mindedly stroking Evey's short, curly hair, something that he delighted in doing. Had he gotten so attuned to this show of affection that it was becoming subconscious? Instinctual?

Whatever the reason, Evey certainly wasn't complaining. V watched in delight as Evey's eyes fluttered closed and she let out a contented sigh as she buried her face into his chest. He should like to see that damned voice of his challenge him now!

"You really liked the show?" Evey questioned, her voice softening.

"Of course, Evey. It was absolutely wonderful. I recorded it down in the Gallery, in case we wanted to watch it again later." V replied.

Evey laughed at that, "I've already lived through the nerves, I don't think I need to watch myself going through that again!"

"Nonsense. You were completely stunning. The audience was completely enthralled. One might go so far as to suggest you have a future in show business."

V both felt and heard the large sigh that erupted from Evey's petite frame. Her muscles were tense; however, he could feel them beginning to loosen up as Evey grew more tired with each passing second.

"Evey, you must be tired." V began. Instantly, the tension in Evey's muscles rose, and she let out a huge groan.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're trying to get rid of me whenever you say that?" Evey grumbled into his chest.

"Or perhaps, my dear, I only wish to prevent you from passing out due to exhaustion." V reasoned. At this point, Evey sat up and stared directly into his black eye screens. V let out a very audible sigh; yes, he knew that she was going to be difficult about this, as she always was.

"Well, then you know my condition." She stated defiantly.

V's eyes widened, and he was glad that Evey couldn't see it. Now, he could feel his darker voice rattling around in its cage, awakening from its slumber. He knew what Evey was asking. She wanted him to stay. He had done it once before. It wasn't that he didn't want to; because he desperately did. But it was incredibly nerve-wracking, especially when it was at Evey's flat, which left him vulnerable.

"Evey…" V began to protest, but was cut off.

"V, you know that you have nothing to be nervous or worried about. I want to be with you, V. And if you're worried about being here, we could just walk to the Gallery. I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow, so we could just stay in and watch a movie or something. I could even be persuaded to watch my performance from this evening, if it meant I could spend that time with you." Evey concluded her argument by placing her hand gently on Guy Fawkes' cheek and drawing V close. Her final statement wasn't a verbal argument; it was a soft peck on the forehead of the mask, and a meaningful stare.

How could V ever go against her infallible argument?

"If that is what you wish, Evey." V acquiesced with a large sigh, although he wasn't too terribly upset. How could he be? It was getting to the point where Evey was constantly arguing to stay with him. Why was he even putting up a fight against her? He should want her to argue for that; and he should want her to win that argument every time.

Evey rose, yawning as she did so. "I'll be just a minute, V." Evey wanted to fetch a few articles of clothing from her room before they headed down to the Gallery for the evening. But before she did, she made a point to turn and give V a victorious smirk. That earned her V's rolling eyes, although she would never know.

It was no accident that Evey selected V's old shirt for her pajamas that night. She hardly ever slept without it, and although she would have the actual man keeping her company that night, she still wanted to have it with her. After rummaging around her drawers for a few minutes, Evey was able to find a shirt and a pair of pants for the next day. She threw the clothes together in a small bag and then went to meet V in the living room.

"Do you have everything you need, Evey?" V asked politely, standing with his cape and hat on, ready to leave. Evey nodded in response.

Because it was simply impractical for a dead man to walk right through the building where he could easily be spotted, they decided to take the fire escape. V had suggested that Evey leave through the main entrance, which was met with the rolling of her hazel eyes. She said that this would be just as easy, and would waste less time. V had already lost an argument to her that night, and was not prepared to start another with her, so he simply let the matter rest.

V helped Evey carefully out of her window, which he closed firmly after them. V did go first; that was something that he would not argue about. The fire escape itself was in good repair, but V would have preferred to go first should anything be waiting at the bottom.

The pair decided that it was late enough that they could take the nearest tube station, as there would be little chance of detection. They started off at a brisk walk, although V had to slow his stride considerably to compensate for Evey's smaller steps.

It didn't take long for Evey to start up the careful dance of brushing her hand against his; however, this time, V was prepared, as he knew what the desired end result was. After Evey's first "accidental" brushing of hands, V simply took her hand in his, ending any unnecessary delay. V was able to cast a secretive glance to his side to catch the wide grin on Evey's face, which brought an even wider one to his.

The walk to the station was short and uneventful; the couple hadn't run into single living soul, save for a stray cat they saw foraging in a trash can. The entrance into the tunnels appeared to be blocked off and boarded up, with several "caution", "danger", and "no trespassing" signs. There were even several posters that still carried the old Party's slogan:

STRENGTH THROUGH UNITY, UNITY THROUGH FAITH.

Seeing the posters sent a small shiver down Evey's spine. It was not out of fear, but out of revulsion that caused this reaction inside of her. V sensed this, and could sympathize with it. However, he kept the posters there to keep up the illusion of the tunnels being both unsafe and inaccessible.

The boards that hid the entrance actually formed a false door, with a latch hidden underneath one of them. It was another ingenious setup of V's own design; he had rigged most of the entrances like this, so that only he could get in. Of course, he had also shown Evey these tricks.

Once they stepped into the tunnels, the couple was enveloped in darkness. For his own part, V had no trouble seeing in the dark thanks to his heightened senses. However, it would take Evey's eyes longer to adjust. He felt her draw closer to his side as she transferred her grip on his hand to a steadier grip on his arm.

V concluded that installing some light fixtures in this area of the tunnels would be in order. He had never stopped to consider that walking through these dark tunnels alone would be unnerving to Evey; after all, he had done so for twenty years without a second thought. Of course, V had become used to seeing her as the strong, confident woman of his own design. But Evey relaxed once they reached the portion of the tunnels that had motion sensor lights installed, and returned her hand to V's. V was struck by how natural the gesture seemed to be for her.

Once the pair had entered the service tunnel that led up to the Shadow Gallery's entrance, Evey seemed to release the last bit of her nerves and tension. V released Evey's hand only once, so that he could better maneuver the secret latch that opened the door to the Gallery. Once the wide door swung open, V gestured with a flourish towards the inside. Rolling her eyes slightly in amusement, Evey led the way inside.

Evey let out a contented sigh once she was inside the main rooms of the Gallery. Being here in this space that was so intrinsically "V" always brought about a sense of ease and calm for Evey, despite some of the more distressing memories this place also held. The atmosphere was always warm and welcoming, as if all the fine works of literature and busts of long lost philosophers were calling out a friendly greeting to her whenever she walked in. Even V's suit of armor seemed to embrace her willingly into the Gallery.

Of course, none were more eager in their welcoming than the resident of the gallery himself. V graciously helped Evey out of her jacket and took her things to her room, where she could retrieve them when she retired for the evening. When V returned to the main room, he found Evey leaning up against the Wurlitzer. She was biting her lip, something V knew she did when she was deep in thought or concentration. V positively adored this small quirk of hers, even from Evey's first days in the Gallery.

"Can I get you anything, Evey?" V asked politely. This stirred Evey from her concentration, and she turned her head to the side just enough so that she could look V in the eye.

"No thank you, V." She replied with a smile. And with that, she returned to flipping through the juke boxes 872 songs.

V could see the exhaustion playing on Evey's features; however, he could also see the very familiar glint in Evey's eyes. Oh no, she would not be heading to bed anytime soon if she had any say in the matter. Deciding that it would be no use in trying to coerce her into retiring, V offered another idea.

"Perhaps I could interest you in a dance?" V asked, suave as ever. He took a few slow steps toward Evey, who turned her gaze back onto his enamel visage, a mischievous smile alighting on her angular face. With a determined push of a button, Evey turned all the way around to face V as her selection began to play.

Billie Holiday's voice crooned out of the Wurlitzer, as V wrapped Evey into his strong arms. The corner's of V's mouth turned up into a smile at Evey's choice. 'All of Me' had always been one of his favorites, though he never thought it truly applied to his life. He was certain that this choice had to do with Evey's earlier declaration on Gordon's talk show.

"An excellent selection, love." V purred as he and Evey twirled and swayed to the music. Evey hummed in agreement. She rested her head on V's chest, perfectly content to rest in his protective arms.

V recalled the last time he had danced with Evey; the circumstances were certainly different. Then, on the eve of the Fifth, hours away from completing his vendetta, the dance the two had shared was both a goodbye, and a cruel reminder to V that he would always be alone. He had never dreamed that he would have the chance to hold Evey in his arms. He was glad that she had allowed him that, before he went off to die.

But now, V had the opportunity once more, and he was very glad that the reasons behind the dance were far different now.

The couple danced together until the song slowly faded out, and then Evey dropped her hands from V's shoulders and wrapped them tightly around his waist, burying her face into his chest. Now, after prolonging the inevitable, Evey's exhaustion was finally catching up with her. She was beginning to slump, rather than support her own weight.

"Evey, you need to sleep." V began.

"V…" Evey began to protest, but V would not have any of it. He had already lost enough arguments to her that evening over the matters of rest.

"Evey, you have delayed sleep long enough. Look, you can barely hold yourself up! Come, I'll escort you to your room so that you can get ready." V released his hold on Evey's waist, although Evey didn't waver in her tenacious grip on V. Rolling his eyes at how childish Evey could be when it came to bedtime, V simply scooped Evey up into his arms. This normally would have resulted in a string of protests, but Evey just let out a groan that sounded suspiciously like "V".

Once inside her room, Evey requested to be let down so that she could get ready for bed. V acquiesced, setting her gently on her feet and supporting her shoulders in case her balance was still precarious. Once V was certain that Evey wouldn't simply topple over, he left her to her own devices.

Once V left, Evey quickly changed into the pajamas she had brought and grabbed her toiletries before making her way to the bathroom. There, Evey inspected her reflection in the mirror. She had actually missed a good portion of the studio makeup left over from the show, which she carefully scrubbed off. After she was sure that she had completely removed any traces of makeup, Evey brushed her teeth and quickly ran her brush through her short hair. With a final glance in the mirror, Evey exited the bathroom and made her way back to the main room of the gallery.

She found V lounging casually on the chaise, reading a book, although she didn't recognize it. She stood silently in the doorway for a few moments. Of course V knew she was there; his impeccable hearing was no match for even her lightest of footsteps. But neither of them made a move. Evey was engrossed in observing this man, silently reading as if he were no more than a statue.

For V's part, he felt suddenly uncomfortable under the intensity of Evey's unwavering gaze. He knew that there was no ill will behind her stare, but the feeling of eyes roaming over him had never been something V liked. But he was paralyzed, and so he waited, squirming, for Evey to make the first move.

"Are you coming, V?" Evey asked when she finally broke the silence. It was a soft, quiet question that was rhetorical more than anything. Evey had already made it clear that that was her one condition that evening for actually going to sleep. She had even ventured all the way down into the Gallery to make V more comfortable. He wasn't about to weasel his way out of it.

V sighed, although not loud enough for Evey to hear. Yes, he would go, as he had promised her he would. He was a man of his word, if anything else. And he knew that he would feel more comfortable now that he was sure that they were safe, here in the confines of the Gallery. But it still never failed to completely unnerve him. He had hoped to have a few moments alone with a book to soothe his frayed nerves.

"Yes, Evey. I'll be there in just a few moments. I want to finish this chapter." V responded, hoping he didn't sound too nervous, but also hoping that Evey would continue to be understanding.

Evey pursed her lips. It would have been easy for V to send her off, and let her fall asleep and never keep his promise. She was about to argue this point, but then she heard the strain in V's voice. Evey berated herself for being so insensitive, and for not believing in V. Of course he would come to her; he had promised, and Evey knew that V would not lie to her. So she simply let the matter drop.

"Alright," Evey said softly before padding down the hallway. Once she entered her room, Evey cracked the door slightly before climbing into bed and crawling under the covers, trying to keep the chill of the Gallery at bay. Once she was situated, Evey let out a huff, and began her wait.

V doubted that he would actually be able to finish the chapter he was currently reading, so instead V gently placed the book down and rested for a few minutes. Before the sinister voice in the back of his mind could even rattle the bars of its cage, V began to think back on all of the moments that would prove it wrong, so as to give him strength against his own demons. He thought of their first dance, and their most recent. He thought of all the kisses that had been presented to the mask, and more that would follow. He thought of Evey's beautiful letter; he mentally recited it, already having memorized it. But most importantly, he thought of every time that Evey had said those three little words, "I love you."

After several minutes of those positive thoughts, V rose from his seat. Now would be as good a time as any, he reasoned. V walked quietly down the hall, not wanting to wake Evey should she already be asleep. When V gently pushed the door open, Evey really did appear to be asleep. She always looked so peaceful when she slept; V always thought that she was gorgeous while she slept. No worries plagued her beautiful features.

V walked slowly to the opposite side of the bed, where he tentatively sat down in order to remove his boots. How easy it would have been, in that moment, to just walk away. To give into his fears and worries and just walk back out to the main rooms of the Gallery and lose himself in a book. But V knew he couldn't do that; and he wouldn't do that. Not to Evey.

V eased himself onto the bed, and quickly situated himself under only the duvet cover, not the sheets. V rested on his back, staring up through black eye screens at the ceiling. Although there was nowhere in the world V would have rather been, he was still horribly uncomfortable.

However, that all changed when Evey stirred next to him. She flipped onto her opposite side, so that now she was facing V rather than the door. Her eyes were still closed, but V now recognized the charade of sleep that she had put on. Evey squirmed the last few inches onto V's side of the bed, where she was welcomed into V's waiting arms. V heard her sigh of contentment, and replied with one of his own. With a final glance at the wonderful woman at his side, V was finally able to close his eyes.

They immediately fluttered open an instant later, as V felt the familiar electric shock pass through the mask. Evey had pressed a soft, gentle kiss onto his enamel cheek, sending a jolt through the mask and his entire body. V glanced down at Evey, who was now resting just as peacefully as she was seconds ago. V watched for a few moments as a soft smile grew on Evey's face. And one grew onto his own as Evey whispered:

"You'll always have my heart, V."

**A/N**

**That definitely ran away with me a little bit, I was not anticipating such a long chapter but I'm glad it was as long as it was. (My chapters are slowly getting longer, even if not a lot is going on. Pretty awesome, if you ask me.) Also, I wanted to send some HUGE shout outs to the following: **** Sarahthepirate98, Luxor-destroyerofworlds, and especially Krytial and Miss E for your incredibly sweet reviews. (And EVERYONE, thanks for reviewing, its not that I don't appreciate all of you guys but I really wanted to send a few special shout outs for reviews that really made my day. I love all of you, mmmkay? 3) **

**The next update is honestly gonna take me a while, because I'm anticipating a huge chapter. A lot is happening, as we actually get a little plot development rather than the fluff that has been taking place as of late. I'm super excited, it should be a good one! Also, I'm gonna try and post updates about my updates on my profile. So if you're wondering about the latest, check it out there and I'll have some news! R&R but mostly enjoy :) **


	16. Chapter 16

**Happy Fifth of November, lovelies! I did end up splitting this chapter up a little bit so that I could actually give you guys an update sooner, and the fact that I had it ready by the Fifth was just an added bonus :) Enjoy! **

Chapter 16

It was incredible, how many things could change in a year.

It was only a year ago that at this very moment, Evey was just preparing to leave her small flat to come visit the Shadow Gallery for the first time since her false imprisonment. It had been a year since she and V had danced, and V had given Evey the greatest gift she had ever received. It had been a year since the revolution had started, thanks to the fateful flip of a switch.

It had been a year since Evey had held V, dying in her arms.

But a whole year later, Evey was spearheading the revolution that V had given to her those 365 days ago. Tomorrow, the people of England would all flock to the polls and cast their vote on what would be the most important election since Chancellor Sutler had been elected. It would go down in the history books as one of the greatest achievements in history, all thanks to one man and his idea. It would be a day that no one would ever forget.

Tonight, the Eve of the Fifth, was to be a night of celebration and remembrance. There were two fireworks displays set to take place at the stroke of midnight; one at the former site of the Old Bailey, and the other at the ruins of Parliament. Across London, countless parties and other soirees were set to take place as the citizens all celebrated their freedom and the man who had given them the power to attain it.

For her own part, Evey was headed to one of the evening's more esteemed get-togethers; Gordon Deitrich, one of London's most well known celebrities, was hosting the most lavish, and most expensive party in all of England. It was a party for England's political figures and other celebrities, which meant that Evey was expected to be in attendance. She would have much rather stayed in and enjoyed a more personal celebration, due to her connections with the revolution and the revolutionary himself. But alas, she had to go, thanks to her civic duties. And of course, refusing an invitation from Gordon was simply not an option. So it was with great reluctance that Evey began her preparations for the evening.

Thankfully, she would not be going alone. Due to the nature of the party, almost everyone would be dressed up as V himself. Who would notice another V among the crowd?

Surprisingly, it had been V's own idea to attend this very public and very social event. Although Evey was delighted that he would be accompanying her this evening, she was shocked that he would so willingly risk his own identity. Should anything happen at the party, his entire façade would come crashing down, and he would be revealed.

But V had jumped at the chance when Evey told him of the party. Evey assumed that it was in part due to the thrill of being literally toe to toe with those who had labeled him a terrorist two years ago, when he destroyed the Old Bailey. It was the sense of danger that came with keeping your true identity a secret. And what better night for it than tonight, when all of London would be dressed as one's doppelganger?

It would not be the costume that would present a challenge to V; no, he was the original among a crowd of imitations. However, concealing his true identity as the actual revolutionary could prove to be a challenge, which V was reveling in.

"V?"

Evey's voice stirred V from his mental preparations for the evening.

"Yes, Evey?"

"Were you listening? I said that I had an idea for your alias." Evey repeated. The pair was currently walking into the Gallery after retrieving the things that Evey needed from her flat. They had been discussing the plan for the night, so that if anything were to go wrong, they would be prepared for it.

"My apologies Evey; I didn't hear what you said."

"Vincent. Don't you think? It still keeps the 'V'." Evey suggested.

"An excellent suggestion, Evey." V said, although he was still only halfway focused. He was still giddy over the idea of walking around in front of his former enemies, completely undetected. It was absolutely dripping with irony and excitement.

Evey knew that V wasn't really paying much attention to their idle chit chat. Once they had gone over the absolutely crucial details, such as the possibility of a sudden need to escape, V had tuned out while she went over the more minute details of their evening. Evey rolled her eyes. What could she expect? This was exactly the kind of stunt that V was attracted to.

V stepped forward then, to open the secret entrance and hold the door open for Evey. Evey had to smirk; even when he was distracted, he was still a complete gentleman. Those instincts had been drilled into him. The couple walked into the friendly atmosphere of the Gallery, its warmth and ancient artifacts welcoming them home.

It was curious; Evey realized again, that in the past year she had come to view the Gallery as her home. Or rather, _their_ home. Now, Evey hardly spent any time at her flat, except on nights she couldn't come to the Gallery and when she had to retrieve some clothing or other such supplies from her flat. Whenever Evey wasn't working, she tried to devote as much time as possible to being in the Shadow Gallery with V.

V's voice broke Evey from her thoughts:

"Evey, are you hungry? Perhaps you should eat something before the party; I would be glad to prepare something if you wished." V offered, seemingly less distracted now.

Evey did feel the beginnings of hunger nibbling at her insides, but Evey just wanted to get to the party and then get back as soon as possible. She was certain that there would be something to eat at the party, at any rate.

"No thank you, V. But don't let me stop you, I'm going to shower and then get ready." Evey responded with a smile.

Evey approached V, who was still holding her dress in its garment bag. He handed it over obediently, and stood while Evey placed a soft peck on the cheek of Fawkes.

"Thank you for carrying the dress, V. Although I hope you know I could have managed." Evey said with a smirk.

"Evey, I haven't the slightest doubt of that."

Evey chuckled slightly, and then turned and walked down the hallway towards her bedroom and the bathroom. V's impressive hearing allowed him to listen as Evey opened her door, flung the dress onto the bed, and then made her back out into the hallway. V waited until he heard the bathroom door shut and the water start before he turned and headed into the kitchen.

V decided that it would be best if he ate something now, while Evey was occupied in the shower. He certainly wouldn't have a chance to eat while they were at the party that evening. So, V began to prepare his evening's meal of chicken and pasta.

While the pasta boiled and the chicken was left in the pan to fry, V idly wandered over to the Wurlitzer, where he began to sift through the 872 songs. Seeing nothing that particularly grabbed his attention, V simply selected a random song and returned back to the kitchen, humming along. V flipped the chicken over and continued to stir the pasta, slowly slipping into the familiar rhythm and pattern that came with cooking. It was common for V to let his mind wander while he cooked.

It would take Evey a while to get ready, which meant that he would have plenty of time to eat and get ready for their evening as well. V half expected that Evey was trying to take her time deliberately; she was always sensitive, but without being doting. It never ceased to amaze V how caring she was.

V did finally hear the water shut off, just as he was putting the finishing touches on his evening's meal. V knew from experience that Evey would be in the bathroom for quite a while longer drying her hair and applying makeup, although he knew she wasn't terribly keen on the idea. V had been terribly amused as Evey returned to the Gallery one evening, positively fuming. Apparently, Gordon had given her a very firm talking too about wearing makeup to his party.

So despite her wishes, Evey would be spending several long minutes in the bathroom. V knew that despite her objection to the makeup, she would never the less spend a decent amount of time on it, making sure it looked proper. It was a habit he had noticed of hers before her rebirth, when she was his captive.

Still, V ate quickly. Going prolonged periods of time without the mask, especially with Evey in close proximity, made V dreadfully anxious. Even when Evey was not in the Gallery, V almost always kept the mask on, save for when he slept, bathed, and ate. It had come to act as a safety blanket, although V hated to think about it this way.

While V was cleaning up his mess from dinner's preparations, he again heard the bathroom door open and close again. Deciding that now would be the best time, as Evey would be getting dressed V left the kitchen to make use of the bathroom and make his own preparations for their evening above.

* * *

Evey's own preparations for the evening were moving along at a sluggish pace. Evey was still not thrilled about having to socialize with hundreds of people whom she didn't know, and would in all likeliness, never see again. So she took her time, fussing over miniscule details and putting painstaking effort into the most mundane tasks.

While Evey was lint-rolling her already spotless dress, she heard V's heavy footfalls walk down the hall and into the bathroom, followed by the closing of the door. She sighed; that meant that V was beginning his final preparations, and would be ready to leave shortly. Evey cast a quick glance towards the clock. They should leave soon, if they wanted to arrive on time.

Pursing her lips, Evey finally slipped off the robe she had been wearing and tossed it aside. The dress that she had picked out for the evening seemed to be staring intently at her pale, creamy skin, urging her to finally put it on. Evey gravitated towards the dress once more, and felt the smooth, satin fabric.

She hated to admit it, but she was actually quite excited to wear this particular gown.

Evey had instantly been attracted to this dress when Gordon had taken her shopping for the occasion. In fact, she had been so enraptured with the dress that when she had found it, she refused to show it to Gordon. Her goal was to have it be a complete surprise for everyone at the grand soiree.

This included V, who had no idea what the dress looked like, although he had carried the dress all the way to the Shadow Gallery from Evey's flat. Although Evey was sure that Gordon would absolutely adore the dress, the dress was truly for V. The dress had practically screamed his name when she had first laid eyes upon it.

Not being able to deny the pull of the dress any longer, Evey finally freed it from its hanger and slipped it over her soft flesh. The cool fabric clung to her, glad to finally drape her slender frame. Evey turned to look at herself in the mirror, and almost didn't recognize herself.

Her short, curly hair had been wrapped up into a twist, accenting her angular features. After doing her makeup, Evey almost could not find the strong woman she had grown into; rather, she saw the young girl who she had replaced. She had tried her best to use as little makeup as possible, but after going so long without it, the difference was shocking.

Presently, Evey heard V exit the bathroom and walk back down the hallway and into the living room. She could also hear the faint sounds of music drifting from the Wurlitzer, which brought a soft smile to her lips. After a final glance in the mirror, Evey slipped her feet into a pair of simple heels and clicked her way out of her bedroom.

She found V hunched over the Wurlitzer. Evey could not prevent the sharp exhalation that escaped her. It was an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. This was exactly how V had been standing, when she had left him. It had been months before the Fifth when she had walked out the door, with only a promise to return before the fifth, that she wasn't sure she could even keep.

But she had kept it, and she had returned the night of the Fifth. It was here, V recalled, that Evey had been standing when he had discovered her. When V had first laid eyes on her, V was certain that it was just a vicious hallucination. Seeing her made him realize how crushing his loneliness had been after she had left. He had never recalled being lonely, until Evey had reminded him what companionship was like.

Seeing Evey that night had lifted one weight off of him, but at the same time, it dropped one twice as heavy back down upon him. It was a relief to see Evey and to know that she had kept her promise even after the horrific things he had done to her. He saw her courage, and later listened to it, as she described how she had survived and avoided detection. V knew that he had succeeded, and that Evey had become everything he had hoped she would be.

Yet seeing her also reminded him of how desperately alone he was. It had never bothered him; not until he had first saved Evey's life. She had given him the first real pause in his plans; perhaps, he wouldn't have to be alone. Maybe he could walk out of this alive and try and become a part of Evey's life again. But that was a foolish thought, he knew. V had known that it was his time; his own journey was coming to an end, and England's was just beginning. Evey's journey was now just beginning, should she prove herself to be the woman he had created.

A year ago, many things had happened. And many things had changed in that single year.

V stood at the jukebox, reliving all of the memories of that night, trying to contain the emotions raging inside of him. He remembered the dance they shared, and when he presented Evey with the train. He remembered that fateful kiss, which nearly destroyed his own plans. He remembered facing Creedy, and all of his guns, and later stumbling desperately back to the woman he had fallen hopelessly in love with. V remembered telling Evey how he felt, as the life bled out of him. And V remembered dying.

But here he was, very much alive, a year later, forging new, happier memories with that very same woman. V heard the soft clicking of Evey's steps, and he could feel her intense stare boring holes into his shoulder blades. He could tell that she was concerned; perhaps she was recalling her own memories from a year ago.

Finally, with a deep, calming breath, V turned to face her. Immediately, V's breath caught in his throat.

The first thing that immediately struck V was that the dress was black. He had suspected this, but it was still a pleasant surprise nonetheless. Seeing Evey in black, the color of shadows, of darkness, of the night, of _himself,_ brought a slight shiver down his spine. Yes, seeing Evey in his own color was something V was _very_ appreciative of.

Of course, being a warm blooded male, V also couldn't help but appreciate how well the dress fit Evey. It was sleek and elegant, hugging her tightly in all the right places and leaving just enough to the imagination. The gown's pencil skirt fell just above the knees, and the neck of the dress dipped down into a sharp V. How could he miss that?

The next thing that V noticed was the elegant, intricately woven belt that draped loosely over her hips. It was blood red, and the cord was laced together in a very stylish manner. Then, the cord fell down the skirt into scarlet tassels that swayed gently when Evey walked.

Evey was a complete vision, and V was rendered speechless.

"V, are you alright?" Evey asked tentatively. She had noticed him brooding over the jukebox, but now he had fallen silent, and was stock still. She would be lying if she said she wasn't slightly concerned.

This seemed to be enough to shake V from his stupor, and he straightened himself before answering.

"Of course, Evey. You look positively ravishing this evening." V complimented.

Evey let out a soft chuckle, and her face lit up with a radiant smile, causing V's heart to race. "Thank you, V. I'm glad you like it; I immediately thought of you when I saw it."

"Not even Gordon could have found a more perfect gown." V offered.

Evey laughed outright at this, but her face quickly sobered. V immediately grew concerned; had he said something? What had caused such a sudden change in demeanor? V took a careful step forward.

"Is something wrong, Evey? What's troubling you?"

Evey shook her head, "It's nothing really. I'm alright, V."

V recognized this instantly as a lie, and took another small step towards Evey, who seemed to have become rooted to the spot.

"Evey, I can see that you're upset, there's no use in hiding it. You can tell me what's wrong; surely you know this."

"Of course I know that. It's just…foolish, really. I was just thinking about how a year ago, circumstances were very…different. I just can't help but think about how you were preparing yourself to die at Creedy's hand, and that I came back to you just to say goodbye."

V saw how upset Evey was becoming, and finally closed the gap between them and reached out for her. He was shocked at himself, as he realized that this was the first time that Evey had not been the one to initiate the contact in some manner. But Evey was very grateful, and she buried her face in his chest.

"I was thinking about that night as well, but more importantly, I was thinking about _tonight_." V comforted.

Then, the music on the Wurlitzer switched over to a more familiar song. Behind the mask, V let a bittersweet smile creep onto his lips, and saw that a similar smile had fallen onto Evey's. It was 'Bird Girl', the song they had danced to exactly a year ago. The fact that it should play now was extremely fortuitous; but as V said, there are no coincidences.

"Evey, would you dance with me?" V asked, mirroring exactly what he had said the previous November the Fifth.

Evey did not miss this allusion, and she looked lovingly into the black eye screens of Guy Fawkes before answering in turn, "I'd love to."

And so V took her again in his arms, this time in the more formal grip of a dance partner, but still managing to convey all of his love for her. They twirled slowly around the main room of the Gallery, exchanging no words, but still saying everything.

Finally, as the song begin to wind down towards the end, V broke the silence:

"This is not a goodbye; this is a promise. This is a beginning."

A single tear escaped Evey's eye, and streaked down her cheek. It was not a tear of happiness; but of joy. Evey closed the gap between them, and rose up on her tip toes. She gazed into the black eye screens, feeling the pressure of his stare meet that of her own, before gently pressing her lips to the lifeless mask, gifting it with a kiss.

"I love you, V."

"And I love you, Evey."

* * *

"Well, this is certainly looking to be the social event of the year," Evey quipped.

V chuckled softly at her remark, although he had to agree. They had just arrived at Jordon Tower, where Gordon was hosting the evening's festivities. It was crawling with important officials, celebrities, and of course the press. The windows of the lobby were emitting warm, yellow light, which splashed out onto the crowd below.

Evey smirked as they got even closer; Gordon really had gone all out for this soiree. He had laid out a long, red carpet to welcome his guests into the building for the party. It was such a "Gordon" thing to do. V seemed to be thinking the same thing:

"A red carpet? I wonder if they would have kept it, knowing that a wanted terrorist would walk upon it this evening." He said, although Evey could hear the smile in his voice.

"Have you forgotten your daring accomplice? Two terrorists will be walking down the red carpet tonight, need I remind you." Evey teased.

V gave out an audible gasp, and brought his hand dramatically to his chest in mock offense: "Forget her? Never! How dare you even suggest such a thing."

They both laughed, before V turned to Evey, offering her his arm. "Shall we, my dear?"

Evey rolled her eyes, but flashed V a smile nonetheless. She slipped her arm in his, and they began to make their way up the red carpet.

It was bizarre to see so many people dressed as V, in Evey's opinion. She had only seen it once before, a year ago, and even then it chilled her. She had assumed that it was simply because she was still wracked with grief, and every smirking mask she saw was like another stab in the heart. However, tonight confirmed the fact that even now, it was a strange sight, although she was glad of the cover it provided for her own V. V seemed to be quite surprised at seeing so many people dressed as himself; he had intended for it to happen, but circumstances had prevented him from seeing it in person. Evey was glad that he finally had a chance to see the fruits of his labor.

As they walked down the long carpet to the entrance, the photographers and reporters all became very excited, pushing and shouting at each other to try and get a shot.

"There she is!"

"Miss Hammond, would you care to make a comment?"

"Smile, Miss Hammond!"

"Who is she with? Who is that?"

Evey had become used to this kind of exposure, having to deal with the media whenever she made an address. She simply let the comments and shouts roll off of her, smiled, and kept walking. V, however, was not used to this kind of attention directed straight at him, all at once. After hiding in the darkness for twenty years and going out of his way to avoid detection, willfully submitting himself to this attention was unnerving. He had grown slightly tense; nothing he couldn't handle, certainly, but he was still grateful to have Evey's reassuring hand.

After making their way through the crowd and into the lobby of the large building, Evey felt the tension in V's muscles relax slightly.

The room was humming with hundreds of voices, although the live band could still easily be heard over the din. Evey surveyed the room, looking for Gordon. It wasn't hard to find him; he and Philip were standing near the band with a throng of people around them. Evey could see the showman himself laughing and gesturing wildly, no doubt telling some overly embellished story to entertain his guests. Evey rolled her eyes. Regardless, Evey leaned close to the mask.

"Why don't we go say hello to Gordon?" Evey suggested.

V nodded, "Lead the way."

Arm in arm, Evey and V wound their way through the crowd, receiving lots of stares and whispers as they went. After all, hadn't Evey Hammond just promised to never give her heart to another? Hadn't she sworn her undying love to the masked revolutionary? Evey couldn't have cared less what they thought, as she had the man right there on her arm. Let them think what they would, but truly, all that mattered to her was that she was there with V now.

Finally, the pair was close enough so that Gordon could see them. He flashed Evey a warm smile, and nudged Philip. Once he had caught his partner's attention, they excused themselves from the conversation, and made their way over to the couple.

"Evey, you look stunning! Now I see why you kept the dress a secret!" Gordon complimented after kissing Evey tenderly on the cheek.

"I don't think Gordon could have found you anything half as lovely, Evey." Philip teased as he embraced Evey in a warm hug.

"For once, I think Philip is correct. And who is this?" Gordon asked, giving Evey a knowing look. Of course both Philip and Gordon had been informed that V would be attending, but for appearances sake, and for anyone listening in, they had to ask.

"This is Vincent. Vincent, I'm sure you recognize Gordon Deitrich. And this is his partner, Philip." Evey made the necessary introductions, although she could hardly contain the giggles erupting inside of her. It was all so ironic, and in this instance, quite silly. Evey glanced up to the mask, and could have sworn that the enamel lips were smiling just a bit wider. She was certain that V would be smiling underneath it as well.

"Well old chap, I trust you'll take care of our darling princess this evening." Gordon warned playfully. "If not, I should hate to think of the consequences."

Philip rolled his eyes. Of course Gordon would seize the only chance he would probably ever have at threatening the masked vigilante, and walking away unscathed. He sounded exactly like an overprotective father, although no one there was taking him seriously.

"The lady will be in most excellent hands this evening, I assure you." V responded, careful to disguise his voice should anyone recognize it.

"Wonderful! Please, enjoy yourselves. There is a special observation deck for the fireworks this evening, plan on being there no later than 11:30 to watch the display." Gordon instructed. "Evey, I'm sure we'll catch up later, but for now, I really should be entertaining. The life of a showman never ends! It was a pleasure to meet you, Vincent."

With a final knowing smile and a wink, Gordon strode off in the direction of incoming guests, with Philip close on his heels. Evey turned to look at V. Of course, the mask obstructed the view of his face, and thus his emotions. But over time, Evey had come to learn other ways of knowing how V was feeling. His body language had taken little time to decipher; however, reading the mask had taken Evey far more time to master. It was all in the tilt of the mask, combined with his overall posture and body language.

Still, Evey desperately wanted to be able to read emotions off of V's actual face; not a cold, hard, facsimile of a man long dead.

V felt Evey's stare, and glanced down at her. Evey watched as he tilted his head to the side, ever so slightly. She was certain that it had become habitual to exaggerate the movements of his face due to the weight of the mask. Evey doubted he even noticed. But this small tilt was one of curiosity, and the beginnings of concern. Evey couldn't help but smile sheepishly after getting caught in the act of observing V so closely. She had to admit, that ever since he had come back into his life, she would steal what little moments of observation she could.

"How are you doing, Vincent?" Evey asked, careful to use his alias.

V paused to consider her question for a moment. Of course he was elated to be here, with Evey. V knew that she would never directly tell him, but Evey loved the idea of being with him in a more normal capacity. He could not blame her for this, although he deeply loathed the fact that he would never be able to give her such normality. But for now, in this moment, he was glad that he could give her just one night.

However, despite his confidence in his abilities to fight, escape, coerce, charm, and deceive, V was slightly on edge. He could not tell exactly why he felt so nervous; after all, he had been swimming with excitement earlier. Should anything happen, he had the utmost confidence in his ability to ensure his own safety in addition to Evey's, and still escape with his identity intact. But he simply couldn't shake the thought something didn't feel right.

"I'm wonderful, Evey." V lied swiftly, although it was only partially a lie. Certainly, it was wonderful to be there. And Evey herself undoubtedly looked wonderful.

Evey eyed V suspiciously for a moment more before sighing, "Alright. You just seemed…tense. We really don't have to stay if you're uncomfortable." She was almost certain that something was troubling him, but she did not want to push him, especially since he was already taking such a high risk.

V waved his hand, "Nonsense. I would hate to waste such an evening as this, especially given the occasion. I'm sure you know me well enough by now to know that this is in fact my favorite holiday."

Evey rolled her eyes, but was put at ease by V's easy going manner. She chuckled slightly at his last quip before twining their fingers together. He was right, after all. They had made this spectacular effort to join in on the festivities, and they should really enjoy the evening to its fullest, especially given their special connections to the holiday.

But Evey simply couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

* * *

"Evey!"

The voice belonged to none other than Eric Finch, who was waving warmly over at where Evey and V were standing. After Evey saw him, she waved back and welcomed him over to where they were standing.

Eric approached the pair, and immediately, his eyes darted to the man standing behind Evey, and the steady hold he had on her waist. It took him only an instant to realize that this was not some imposter in a Guy Fawkes mask. The real man stood before him, with his arm wrapped protectively around his former prisoner.

"Eric, how are you?" Evey smiled warmly as Finch gave her a friendly hug. Throughout this entire exchange, Evey was acutely aware of V's foreboding presence behind her. The moment Finch had called her name Evey had felt a shift in V's attitude, and a newfound rigidity in his muscles.

It was interesting, he thought, that a year ago he was hell bent on catching them both and turning them in as terrorists. It was incredible what could change in a year.

"Evey, you look lovely." Finch complimented, choosing his words carefully. "Who's your date? I don't believe we've met."

Evey cast a careful glance up at the mask, and gave V a reassuring smile before answering. "This is Vincent. Vincent, of course you recognize Eric Finch."

"It is an honor to meet you in person, Head Inspector." V said, giving Finch an obvious hint as to who he really was. Both Evey and Finch's eyes widened at his statement, and they both gave a slightly nervous chuckle.

"Tell me Vincent, what do you do?" Finch asked, as a group of people had walked within listening distance. He wanted to help the pair keep up appearances.

Evey glanced wide eyed at the mask; how had she forgotten to come up with some fake job for V to have? Thankfully, V seemed to have been one step ahead of her:

"I'm a private security contractor." V supplied.

"Really? That must be exciting. One of the good guys." Eric chuckled, but gave V a knowing look, referring to his escapades chasing rebels.

"Yes, I'm never short on excitement." V replied stiffly.

"Well Vincent, I'm quite pleased to see that Evey is in good hands this evening. It was good to meet you." Finch said. "Enjoy the rest of your evening. I really should go find Gordon; I'm expected to give a speech later tonight."

With that, Eric Finch turned and made his way deeper into the crowd. After a few seconds, Evey couldn't distinguish him among the mob of people. The large foyer was now beginning to fill up, and Evey was surprised at how many people she didn't recognize were in attendance. She figured that it would mostly be a few more important government officials and celebrities; however, it appeared that there were many common government employees in attendance as well.

Speaking of employees, a young man who worked for Evey was now making his way through the crowd towards the pair. Evey felt V's grip on her waist tighten instinctively, as it had when Eric first greeted them.

Finally, the young man, whom Evey believed was named Michael, screeched to a halt in front of them.

"Evey, you look incredible tonight. I mean really, really incredible." He slurred. It was immediately obvious from his lack of coordination and his incoherent speech that he had already indulged himself beyond his limit.

"Ms. Hammond, if you please." Evey responded curtly. "You realize that I am your boss, Mr. Smith."

"Oh, Evey, come on, relax! This is a party, we aren't in the office!" Michael burped suddenly. "What do you say you and I have a dance, hmm?"

V had restrained himself thus far, but now he could not resist taking a menacing step forward. This filth was an absolute waste, and the fact that he should so uproariously talk to Evey in such a manner was despicable. He would not tolerate it any longer.

However, Evey placed her small yet firm hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. V was slightly taken aback; surely she didn't want this kind of behavior to continue?

"Mr. Smith, you _will_ call me Ms. Hammond, and you will especially not talk to me in such a manner. I am your coworker, and more importantly, I am your superior. Do I make myself clear?" Evey chastised. Although she appreciated V's intimidating presence behind her, this was something she was well equipped to handle on her own.

However, Michael seemed to have lost his interest in Evey for the moment. Instead, he was now directing his attention at her companion.

"What do you think, mister? Is it really fair that you have such a lovely thing all to yourself for the entire night? The _entire_ night?" He emphasized. "Don't you think you could share her for just one dance?"

As much as V admired Evey for wanting to take a stand for herself, he simply could not allow this to continue. He carefully removed his arm from its position on Evey's waist, which made him all the more frustrated at having to do so. He crossed the gap between them in one fluid stride. This was certainly enough to get Michael's attention, as he quickly stopped drabbling.

"Although I do believe the lady made it clear she wasn't interested, perhaps I should reiterate her point." V hissed, so only the man before him could hear. "If you do not leave right now, I shall make this a most uncomfortable situation for you. Do you understand me?"

Michael's face seemed to have paled by several shades; the severity of V's tone was enough to rouse him from his drunken stupor. Without so much as another word, he turned quickly on his heel and disappeared into the throng of people around them.

After he could no longer see him, V turned back to see Evey staring at him with wide eyes. His first concern was that he frightened her, which was entirely possible. His second thought, although he did rather doubt this, was that she was upset with him.

"Evey…" V began.

"What did you say to him?" Evey whispered. V was relieved when he saw her corner of her lips twitch slightly towards a smile.

"I merely suggested that he take his antics elsewhere. It was quite civil, really." V shrugged.

Evey stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, "Oh V, I'm so sorry you had to deal with that. I could have handled it, you know."

"I've no doubt in my mind, Evey. But I'm sure you can understand why I cut in. And I believe you mean to say, Vincent." V added in a much lower tone.

"Thank you _Vincent._ I hope that hasn't completely ruined your evening."

"Not at all, my dear. But the night might come close to ruin after all." V watched with amusement as Evey snapped her head up to stare worriedly at him. "It would be ruined if we didn't share at least one more dance this evening."

Evey laughed, and flashed V one of her most sincere smiles. It amazed her at how in some instances, V could be completely charming and debonair, while in the next moment, he would be shy and reserved once again. She certainly knew the reasoning, but once again Evey was amazed at the many halves that V showed to her.

Suddenly, the band struck up a familiar tune; one that played frequently on the Wurlitzer. Evey smiled in recognition, and saw V tilt his head in acknowledgement as well.

"May I have this dance, Miss Hammond?" V asked, suave as could be.

Evey had to laugh again, "I would be honored."

V took Evey's hand then and led her out to the center of the dance floor, where dozens of others were swaying and turning to the music. After V gracefully spun Evey out once and back safely in his arms, he placed a strong hand on her hip, while she rested her hand on his shoulder. Evey smiled up at the mask, and gazed lovingly into the black eye screens of Fawkes.

This should have been the perfect moment. This should have been the most wonderful thing for V. Here he was, secretly resurrected on the eve of his death, holding the one thing he valued most. And that thing he cherished so dearly, that beautiful creature now wrapped in his arms, was staring at him with love pouring out of her eyes. V should have been euphoric.

And for the most part, he was. But now, the eerie feeling he had been having all night was starting to build. He could sense that something was wrong, but for the life of him, he did not know what it was. And that was what was so disconcerting: knowing that he and his most precious Evey could be in grave danger, and not even know until it was too late.

V was hoping, begging, that it was just the result of an overactive imagination and the nerves from being surrounded by strangers, completely out in the open. He was hoping that this was just the paranoia from no longer hiding in the shadows, but rather living in the light. V was desperately hoping that he was wrong.

"V?" Evey whispered, so softly that V thought for a moment she hadn't said anything at all.

"Yes, Evey?" He whispered back.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, Evey." V lied again. How many times had he lied tonight? Hadn't he promised not to do that?

"We really can leave if you'd like. I'm not one for large soirees like this anyway." Evey offered.

V shook his head. He was not going to ruin her evening all because he had a vague suspicion that something was wrong. For all he knew, it was because Evey had changed the shade of her lipstick by the slightest bit.

"No, love. I'm enjoying myself. Truly. How often do we get an opportunity like this?"

Evey dramatically pretended to think before answering. "Once a year."

"Correct. So why not enjoy ourselves? If you are worried about me, know that it has more to do with my instincts, rather than my discomfort." V pleaded. He truly couldn't stand the thought of ruining this one, special night for Evey.

"Of course we'll enjoy ourselves. But I think that every time I spend time with you is wonderful. You don't have to make tonight special; it already is, since I'm with you." Evey raised her hand from V's shoulder to his enamel cheek.

Oh, she knew him too well! V smiled beneath the mask at her perceptiveness, but more importantly, her tenderness and love. What he had done to deserve this, V was certain he would never know.

"When you speak so, my love, you rival even the Master himself." V purred.

Evey laughed, "I've told you several times before that I'm no Shakespeare."

"But could he have ever written something so heartwarming?" V countered.

"He certainly could have tried." Evey fired back.

The music was now beginning to slow, and they would only have a few short moments to enjoy this song until another began. Deciding to take full advantage of the moment, and the songs final crescendo, V suddenly spun Evey round once more, and once the final notes began to fall from the musicians, V dipped Evey low, eliciting a delightful little gasp from the woman herself.

Evey had never in her life been dipped, so it was quite the pleasant shock when V expertly drew her into the move. Once she had reached the low point of her dip, Evey laughed in delight, all the while clutching tightly to V.

The world was upside down, for a few brief moments. It was an interesting perspective, and while she had the opportunity, she surveyed the grand room they were in. Several partners had applauded their final flourish, while others were beginning the next dance already. But something else had caught Evey's attention while she was dangling in V's arms.

A mask.

The mask itself shouldn't have been so surprising; it was, after all, the eve of the Fifth, and almost everyone was sporting a Guy Fawkes mask. But this mask was inherently flawed. She had seen masks like this before, although recently it had only been in nightmares.

A garish, scarlet X had been crudely painted onto the mask.

V had now pulled her up from her dip. Her eyes were wild with shock, and V was initially concerned about having harmed her in the dip. But then he saw what had caused her such distress. X.

Evey barely had time to form V's single syllable before they were propelled backwards by a powerful blast, originating from where she had just seen the rebel standing.

Evey and V were thrown to the ground, as were all the guests at the party. Glass shattered, and smoke filled the room, along with the sickening smell of burning flesh. It was not long before the screams and chaos erupted. Those who were not killed, injured, or unconscious, were already scrambling around in a desperate attempt to escape.

V was fortunate enough to have remained conscious. When he was finally able to sit up, despite a raging headache and ringing in his ears, his first thought was Evey. She was lying next to him, unmoving, and for one of the longest seconds of V's life, he was certain that she was dead. He was relieved beyond words when he saw her eyes flutter for a brief moment. A large bump was forming on her forehead, which was covered in blood from a cut near her scalp. She had presumably hit her head when she fell, which had rendered her unconscious.

They had to get out, now. V swiftly scooped Evey into his arms, and glanced around for the best way to escape. No new enemies were flooding the building, but the main entrance still wasn't a good idea. Everyone around him was now screaming and pushing him away, trying desperately to make an escape themselves. V searched as best he could, but the smoke and throngs of people made it impossible to see around him.

Suddenly, he felt a rough tap on his shoulder.

"You need to get out of here! Come with me!" It was Eric Finch, who appeared to have received only minor wounds from the explosion. He had a rag clamped over his face to help prevent breathing in the smoke, which made it even more difficult for him to be heard over the din.

V could easily make out the concern in the man's eyes when he saw Evey limp in V's arms. But V was impressed at how well he was holding himself together.

Finch set off at a rather quick pace through the crowd, in the opposite direction of the main entrance. They had to push against the heavy flow of people, most of whom were far too terrified to care or notice them. V was careful to prevent Evey from being bumped into; he was certain she already had sustained a rather severe head wound, she did not need another.

Finally, the people began to thin out, and V was able to make out a set of double doors, presumably leading to a side alley.

"Through here, quickly!" Finch urged, holding the door open for him.

The first thing that immediately struck V was the sudden lack of noise. Certainly, the screaming and panic could still be heard from the front of the building, along with sirens that were fast approaching. But it was no longer contained in a small space, and V could now think more clearly.

"We need to get her to an ambulance. She needs a doctor." Finch began.

"Do you know who the target of this attack was? Perhaps these men were trying once again to target her. Do you honestly think she will be safe in a hospital?" V challenged. He was not about to relinquish Evey to some strangers, especially in a place where he couldn't be there to protect her.

Finch threw up his arms in exasperation. "What do you want me to do, V? She's probably got a concussion, and that's an optimistic diagnosis. She could have brain damage. She could be in a coma."

V knew all along that this was a very real possibility. He had feared such a thing when he had first seen Evey lying unconscious next to him. But he could not yet be certain that she wasn't the target of this attack, and therefore could not take the risk of admitting her to a hospital.

"Until I have assessed the situation, she will remain with me, where she is safe." V replied.

"Assess the situation? If you mean going in alone, looking for revenge, you know my answer to that. These men deserve to face the consequences of their actions." Finch insisted.

"Do you suggest that the justice I offer is not fair? Do you dare suggest to me that my cause is not just? I let you take the men who attacked Evey to prison. And now, look how they have repaid you. They will not be afforded the same luxury again." V seethed. "Justice will be swift, and it will be final. Whether or not you support it is not my concern."

V turned to go, but Finch's voice stopped him.

"Where are you taking her? At least tell me that." Finch pleaded.

"If I were to tell you, I should compromise everything."

Without another word, V turned and strode down the alley, away from Finch. He hated to involve himself in such a way, as he had promised not to do anything to shape the course of the new world. But when something such as this happened, his course of action was already decided for him. He had no choice but to intervene.

The screams of both sirens and people slowly began to fade away as V hastily moved through the London night, careful to keep Evey wrapped securely in his arms. He moved as quickly as could be allowed, given his burden, and still made better time than most men could have.

The streets were remarkably empty, given the fact that an explosion had just rocked the BTN. V was grateful that he did not have to duck into the shadows too many times to avoid an encounter. It did not take long for V to locate one of the entrances to the underground that he seldom used. It was located on what was usually a very busy street, which is why he usually avoided it. However, it would still serve its purpose well tonight.

V had taken the usual precautions of boarding up the entrance and putting in a false door, along with plastering the entrance with Norsefire propaganda and plenty of "KEEP OUT" or "DANGER" signs. It was admittedly a bit difficult for V to maneuver the secret door while still keeping Evey secured in his grasp, and after a few frustrating moments, he finally was able to maneuver his way inside.

This was an area of the tunnels that V had not rigged with lights, as he and Evey were almost never in this area. It was certainly no problem for him, though. He had spent twenty years in the darkness; it was his ever faithful ally, and it readily welcomed him back into its open arms.

V continued to walk quickly through the labyrinth of tunnels, pausing only briefly when he heard Evey make a slight groan. For a moment, he thought she would wake, but after a few tense minutes of waiting, he concluded that it was just a subconscious noise.

Finally, V made it to the secret entrance of the Gallery. It was 11 o'clock, an hour before the Fifth came around and marked the anniversary of the revolution. V recalled how exactly a year ago, he was beginning his final preparations.

But he would have to think on those last moments later, as he had a more pressing issue at hand. V laid Evey gently down on the chaise, and immediately went to fetch a cool cloth and some other first aid supplies. Once he had retrieved the supplies he needed, V returned to the main room of the Gallery and sat on the knelt next to Evey's head to assess the damage.

The bump was smaller than what he had first suspected, but it was dark and bruised. Once V had wiped up the dried blood on her forehead, V saw that she had a minor cut on her hairline. It was almost perfectly symmetrical to the one she had received while saving him in Jordon tower, two years ago. He took a moment to gently run his thumb over the scar.

V seriously doubted that Evey would be waking anytime soon, so he decided to begin his research on the rebel organization. The moment V sat down, a wave of fury rolled off of him, and V had to press his fingers into his temples to calm himself down. He never should have allowed things to progress this far. The night he and Finch pulled the raid should have been the end of it. He should have killed every last one of them. And now, because he hadn't, dozens lay dead in Jordon Tower, and Evey laid unconscious just feet away from him.

Over the course of the past few months, V had been gathering intelligence on some rebel cells. However, based on his research, none of them had been remotely connected to X. After the arrest of George Listler, the mole, the organization had completely disappeared from V's radar. The rest of the groups he was monitoring were small, and poorly funded and supplied. How had an attack like this gone unnoticed, especially in the planning stage? V prided himself on his knowledge of explosives. He knew what to look for when someone was planning to rig a bomb: large purchases of fertilizers or other materials, detonators, wires, and anything of the like. He knew from his research that none of these organizations were planning something like this; he had checked the records, and no one had even purchased enough of anything to build something remotely powerful. He was utterly dumbfounded. V could feel his tension building once again. He decided that it would be best to step away for a few moments, and head to the training room.

The training room was often where V had his most coherent thoughts, his best plans, and his most startling realizations. While he threw himself into the rigors of physical activity, it was able to spark something inside of him that fueled his thinking. It also helped to calm his nerves, or release all of his pent up frustrations.

V recalled how much time he had spent in this room while Evey was his prisoner. In the beginning, when he wasn't dressed in a disguise and torturing Evey, he was almost always in this room, hurling himself into the most rigorous activities he could think of. After doing intense physical exercise, he would often hone his skills with his knives, both throwing and hand to hand. He had destroyed countless dummies in his blind rage.

After almost every session, V was left screaming in rage and pain. After his first torture session with Evey, V had worked himself to the breaking point, after which he collapsed to the ground and screamed his hatred at the world.

Towards the end of her imprisonment, V had gained more control over himself. He no longer worked himself until he fell to the ground, exhausted. But rather, he focused himself on challenging exercises, such as throwing knives behind him with as much accuracy as in front. Some of the skills his practiced were hardly practical, but they kept his mind focused solely on task at hand, rather than the horrific acts he was about to commit.

The training room, in addition to his library, had become a source of great source of release and comfort for V over the years, and now was no exception. When V entered the large room, it seemed that all of the knives and assorted weaponry lining the walls turned to smile at him, glinting in the light. They were beckoning to him, begging to be loosed on a dummy, or better yet, an enemy. In addition to the darkness, the blade had always been his greatest ally.

V first selected his simplest, most utilitarian set of knives. They were his favorite set, and they were usually the ones he carried with him while out in the night. The weight was familiar in his hand, just as the feeling of Evey's fingers laced with his was becoming more and more familiar. The blades sang with joy once they were released from their sheath, and shone eagerly in the light, ready to do whatever was required of them.

A row of six dummies had been set up from V's last session. V observed his opponents for only a moment before striding down the line, expertly launching a blade at each. All of the blades found their mark with a solid thud, landing precisely between the eyes of each dummy. V fetched the knives from each, and began again, only this time he aimed for the chest. Each landed precisely where it had been aimed, and V smirked again with satisfaction.

For his next exercise, V raised the arm of each dummy as if they were holding a gun. He then proceeded to hurl the blades at the hands of each, as if he were disarming them. He then immediately followed up that throw with another, with the knife burrowing deeply into the leg of the dummy.

After several more rounds of target practice in different positions, distances, and aiming points, V finally retired his set of knives. He felt much calmer now; more focused. He figured that he could get in a decent amount of research before he would set off on the evenings more sinister task.

However, those plans were suddenly put on hold.

"V?"

V spun around at the sound of the quiet, weak voice that came from the doorway. Evey had awakened, and was now slumped precariously against the door frame. Her eyes were half closed, and her face was unusually pale. Suddenly, she let out a soft groan, and began to collapse.

"Evey!" V gasped. Luckily, his incredible speed and reflexes allowed him to catch her before she fell all the way. "Evey, you need to rest. Come, lay back down."

Evey meekly nodded, and made no protest when V cradled her in his arms. She winced as they walked; each time V took a step it felt like someone hammered on her head. She could hardly open her eyes, as the light worsened her condition. Her head throbbed, and her body ached all over. Evey could barely remember anything from that night, except for the glaring red X.

Evey couldn't help the groan that escaped her lips when V set her down as gently as he could. She wanted to be strong, especially now in a time of crisis for her people and her country. But the pain had other ideas.

V left briefly, and returned a moment later with a cool cloth to place on her forehead and some pain medication. He slowly helped Evey sit up just enough to take the medicine, and then immediately had her lie back once again. Once she was comfortable, V rested the cool rag on her forehead and rested a blanket on her. Evey hated to feel so helpless, but was still appreciative of the care V was giving her.

"How are you feeling, love?" V asked softly, taking Evey's hand in his.

Evey groaned, "I've been better."

"Evey, do you remember anything? Anything at all?" V asked.

Evey closed her eyes, and tried to think. But it was like someone had placed a deep fog into her vision; she could hardly see anything, and what she could see made no sense. The only thing she could clearly make out was a vivid, disgusting X.

"All I can remember is an X. Everything else is just a fog." Every replied.

V nodded solemnly. It was just as he suspected. Sensitivity to light and sound, in addition to her hazy memory were sure signs that Evey had a concussion. And judging by how long she was unconscious, V was willing to bet that it was quite serious.

Evey groaned again, although this time it was not a moan of pain, but of frustration.

"V, why can't I remember anything?" She cried out suddenly, startling V slightly.

"Evey, you have a concussion. You hit your head rather hard during the explosion. Do you remember that much?" V asked.

Evey furrowed her brows for a moment, before her face lit up. "Yes, I remember that. That's where I keep seeing the X. It was on your face, V. Did you blow up the party…?" What little recollection Evey had gained, was suddenly gone once again. V placed a reassuring hand on Evey's after she let out another grumble of frustration.

"Love, you need to rest. Your brain needs time to recover. Once you get some sleep, I assure you that your memory will return to you once more." He insisted. "Rest. I will be doing some research on the men who did this. I might not be here once you awaken."

Evey's eyes widened slightly at that. "Why not?"

V sighed. There was no use in beating around the bush with Evey, even in her dazed state. He put it as bluntly as he could: "I'm going to kill the men responsible."

Evey's eyes got wide once again, and this time, she attempted to sit up, but to no avail. V gently pushed her back into the couch.

"V, you can't! What if something happened to you?" Evey cried.

"Evey, how many times have we discussed this? You know what I am capable of doing. I will be fine." V soothed. Evey let out an exasperated sigh.

"Please just be careful, V." She begged. "I know you will do it, no matter what I say. Just promise you'll come back to me in one piece."

V nodded, "You have my word."

Evey seemed to be content with that, as she closed her eyes and finally stopped resisting the pressure V was applying to her shoulder. V was glad that she was for once taking his advice about rest without any argument. He used this opportunity to take his leave for the commuter, where his duty awaited him.

He had not gotten far before Evey called out to him: "V, wait! I forgot something."

V returned to her side at once, hoping that she would have remembered a crucial piece of information, although he knew that was doubtful.

"I have to make an address. I may be confused, but I know what tomorrow is. It's November the Fifth. It's election day, and after an attack like this, people will be confused. I need to make an address." Evey concluded, as she attempted once more to sit up.

"No." Came his swift reply.

She was met by V's strong arms, which pushed her back once again. He had lost plenty of arguments with this woman; it was something he was slowly getting used to. Some were good for him to lose, others not so much. He had lost the argument about her returning to work after her kidnapping, much to his disappointment. But this could not be allowed. V simply would not consent to her wandering back up into the chaos and madness above with a concussion. He was not willing to budge on this argument.

Evey was flabbergasted at the curtness of his reply, and more so about his actual response. "No? What do you mean, no? V, you of all people should understand why I need to do this. This is for your revolution, V!"

"Evey, this revolution ceased to be mine the moment you sent the train to parliament. And furthermore, you have a severe concussion. Even arguing right now could be incredibly detrimental. The answer is simply no." V stated.

"But…"

"Evey, I understand why you want to do this. And I greatly admire your dedication, you know this. And although it is no longer mine, you know I want to see the revolution succeed. But I will not see you harm yourself this way. If it is any consolation, I will send word to Finch, and request that he make the address himself." V offered.

Evey grimaced, both in pain and in frustration. Even in her confusion, Evey could see that this was an argument she was bound to lose. It certainly didn't help that she could hardly stand up, and therefore could not physically disobey V. Although she loathed admitting it, she probably wouldn't have been able to make a speech even if V had allowed it.

She knew he was right, of course. Her bruised brain now needed time to heal, which would require lots of rest. So, Evey laid back once more and closed her eyes, and tried to coerce herself into sleeping.

V waited a few minutes by her side until her breathing began to regulate, and he was certain that she had fallen asleep at last. Once she had fallen asleep, V rose and made his way back to his computer. The screen flickered to life before him, displaying all of his resources before him. V sighed and took a deep breath. The first thing was of course to send word to Eric, as he knew it was crucial that the address be made as soon as possible.

It was now just approaching midnight. V would have a few hours at best to deliver Evey's message to Finch and carry out his mission before the group would disband and become untraceable until their next attack. V knew that his window of opportunity was very small. So he launched himself into his search, working at full speed to find anything that would lead him to the vermin that had executed this attack.

Occasionally, V could hear Evey shift slightly in her sleep, or grumble something under her breath. He would usually use this opportunity to rise and give himself a moment of respite, when he would put a fresh rag on Evey's head and ensure that she was resting comfortably.

It was about 1:30 in the morning when V finally caught a break in the search. It was an address, listed under George Listler's name that had been rented out only a month ago. After cross referencing the address with any deliveries made, V saw that a small amount of necessary supplies had in fact been delivered to the address. He concluded that this was likely the best lead he would get without wasting all of his time, and rose to make his preparations.

His knives seemed to quiver in anticipation as he secured them to his belt, matching the anticipation of their master. V would admit to being excited; he hadn't had a chance like this in months. He was not the kind of man to lay idle, and having nothing to do had been secretly driving him mad. After donning his hat and cape, V made one final check on Evey before he left. She was resting soundly, although she had kicked the blanket off of her since V had last checked. V replaced the blanket and tucked it around her, ensuring that it would not fall again. He gently placed his hand on Evey's cheek, trying to provide her with some comfort, even in her subconscious.

"Do not fret, my love. I shall return to you." He whispered softly.

He waited just a few more minutes before he rose for the last time, and made his way out into the London night.

**A/N**

**Yes, an update! And on November the Fifth, no less! I really hope you guys enjoyed MY LONGEST CHAPTER YET. Like I mentioned above, I did end up cutting it off a little before I thought I would so that I could A: get you lovelies an update, B: give you lovelies some suspense C: Because I can, alright?**

**Also...I got inspiration for Evey's dress from an actual dress, I'll post the link on my profile! (Since I guess I can't here.)  
**

**Thanks so much for your reviews and support, it really means the world to me and helps keep me on task with the writing! I will begin writing the resolution of this as soon as I have uploaded this. Again, keep checking my profile I try and post the status of the updates there if you guys are curious. R&R! **


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"V, if you're in here, there's no reason to jump out and startle me." Eric Finch called out into the darkness of his office.

He had just arrived here, after being cleared by medical personnel at Jordon Tower following the attack. Finch knew that he would be getting no sleep tonight, so he might as well come to his office and begin making progress on the nightmare that was unfolding before them. He had already suspected that V would come to see him at some point that night; he just wasn't sure when. But when Eric Finch had entered his office, and saw that the lights would not flip on, he immediately recognized V's classic modus operandi.

As suspected, after he had called out into the darkness, V melted out of the shadows as if he were nothing more than an apparition. Moonlight streaming through Finch's windows illuminated the pale Guy Fawkes mask, causing it to glow ominously in the dark, adding to his ghostly appearance. Had he not known better, he would have almost thought he was seeing a ghost, rather than an actual man.

"There isn't much time, Prime Minister. I did not come to ask for you permission, or your assistance. I only came with a request from Evey." V began, skipping any formalities.

Evey had made a request? Eric let out a huge sigh of relief. That meant that in the last few hours, she had at least become conscious for a short while. V noticed Finch's sudden change in demeanor and continued:

"She will be fine. I suspect that she has a rather serious concussion, nothing more. But she will be seeing a doctor in the morning, once those responsible have been taken of."

"What does Evey need?" Eric asked, reminding V of his first statement.

"Given her condition, she is not able to reach out to the people in this time of national crisis. She would like you to make an address to the people as soon as you possibly can. It is crucial that you emphasize the need for them to cast their ballots as planned." V instructed.

Finch nodded solemnly. Although he hadn't made nearly as many addresses as Evey had, he had certainly reached out to the public many times since he became Prime Minister. Although seeing Evey would obviously be the most reassuring thing for the citizens, he understood why that simply wasn't feasible.

"Of course. I'll make the arrangements."

V nodded in approval, and then turned to make his leave. He was already wasting crucial time that was needed to try and catch those responsible, and he could not waste any more. However, he was stopped before he could even set foot outside of Finch's office.

"How am I going to explain this? I'm not trying to stop you V, because I know that that's impossible. But you have to realize that you're leaving me with quite the mess to try and explain to my own people." Finch asked.

V had of course considered the consequences of taking actions such as these. His actions would probably require a government cover up of some kind, which was exactly what Evey and Finch were desperately trying to avoid. They were trying to regain the people's trust, which had been so heinously abused by Sutler and the Norsefire regime. But these men were terrible threats to their safety, and their revolution. If they were allowed to regroup and resupply, they would begin to grow in strength and in daring. Soon, targets would become bigger, and the stakes would rise. They would try and plunge the people back into their state of fear. Stopping them before they got that chance was crucial; it had become the only path available to him.

It did not help their cause in the slightest that they had also gravely injured Evey Hammond, whom V held dear. Had she been more seriously injured or even killed, V wasn't certain what he would have done, only that it certainly would have been final.

But blatantly lie to the people? V wasn't sure he could bring himself to do it; it was against all of his principles, and of course against Evey's.

This was exactly why he had sworn to stay uninvolved; why his being alive only complicated matters.

Eric Finch recognized the man's silence as uncertainty, and he took this opportunity to offer him a suggestion:

"Listen, V I understand that you have to do what you have to do. But perhaps, if you left us some of the lackeys, men who aren't that important, we'll at least have something to base it off of. But if you kill all of them, you know as well as I do the repercussions of a cover-up. The already fragile trust the people have in us would be shattered beyond repair." Finch stared patiently at the massive figure before him, waiting for his answer. He watched as V brought a hand to his mask, and then let out a sigh.

"I will leave you five men, whose importance will be minor. They will tell you everything you want to hear; that they organized it all, they purchased the supplies, and anything else that will help you provide a case to the people and prove their guilt. But the man behind the attack will receive my own justice." V relented. He knew that given the circumstances, it was the best deal any of them could have offered.

Finch nodded in appreciation before adding, "How will I know where to find them?"

"I will send word once they have been detained."

Finch nodded once more, before finally turning away from V as a signal for him to leave. V did not waste another second after receiving his cue; he had an appointment that needed keeping.

* * *

Evey finally stirred from her slumber with a throbbing headache and a ringing in her ears. She had no idea what time it was, and for a brief moment, she had no idea _where_ she was. Slowly, she was able to sift through the fog in her mind to retrieve the memory from her last waking moments.

The Shadow Gallery. Of course. She looked around, taking in the high ceilings and ancient artifacts that were strewn about the room. Yes, it made sense for her to be here in the Shadow Gallery. Evey pursed her lips at the irony; she seemed to have a knack for waking up in the Shadow Gallery after being unconscious. She could remember bits and pieces of her last conversation with V, who had wanted her to remain safe in the Gallery after the attack at Gordon's party.

That was where her memory began to fail once more; she was having a very hard time remembering any part of the party except for the bombing, which she thought curious. Usually in a traumatic event, wouldn't her mind block the actual event, rather than the preceding events? Evey let out a sigh, and let that subject rest. She was straining herself mentally, which was giving her an even worse headache.

Evey tried to sit up, but the sudden rush of blood to her head made her dizzy and nauseous, forcing her to immediately fall back to the couch. She desperately wanted a glass of water, or better yet to move to the more comfortable bed in her room. The fact that she could hardly sit up, let alone move about, greatly complicated the matter.

"V?" Evey called out softly, as even the sound of her own voice caused a jolt of pain inside of her skull.

No response. Evey furrowed her brows; of course he would be able to hear her, given his incredible hearing range.

"V?" She called out a little louder this time, causing her to wince in pain.

It was then that Evey remembered that he had gone out for the evening. She continued to search her memory for the exact reason as to why he was traipsing around the streets of London at such a late hour (or at least what she assumed to be a late hour). Her muddled mind was drawing up blanks, and she couldn't seem to form a logical thought process.

Evey sighed heavily, and decided to try sitting up once more. The rush of blood to her head wasn't nearly as dramatic as the last one, so she was actually able to right herself. Once she was sitting as comfortably as she possibly could, Evey closed her eyes to block out the glaring light and began to think.

After a few minutes, logic seemed to be coming back to her. Evey recalled the attacks, and concluded that V must have been out dealing with it in some way or another. The wheels inside of her head were turning agonizingly slow, which only caused Evey to become even more frustrated. What exactly was V doing to deal with the attack?

Suddenly, it came to her. The mist in her mind cleared ever so slightly, so that she could see the conversation she had had with V before he had left, and she had fallen asleep.

"_What are you going to do, V?"_

"_I'm going to kill them."_

Evey's eyes snapped open, and she gasped aloud. The sudden light and excitement had brought about another head rush, and Evey quickly collapsed back onto the chaise. V was gallivanting around playing vigilante! He was going to_ kill_ the men responsible for the attack!

How could she have agreed to this earlier? It was no doubt thanks to her concussion, which seemed to make thinking anything rational impossible. Had she been even close to her right mind, she never would have agreed to this.

Of course she wanted the men who did this to suffer; V had rubbed off on her in that respect. She would love to see V skewer them and end their meaningless lives, but that was going against everything she had been working so hard on. If V killed these men, how could she keep him hidden, while still be truthful to the citizens of the country she was sworn to protect? She could not win in this situation.

Damn him and his thirst for revenge! Couldn't he see what he was doing? He was endangering everything: the revolution, the reputation of the government, and even his own life! Couldn't he realize that sometimes, the ends did _not_ justify the means? Killing these men did not provide the people with the solace and comfort they needed; it did not give them any closure.

But could Evey really blame V? This was his idea of justice, and Evey couldn't deny that she wanted far more than prison for these men. Were they really all that different? He had created her new self; parts of him could easily be found inside of her. They would certainly have similar views now.

Yet Evey was able to separate those personal beliefs for the betterment of her country. She understood that killing these men would not help the revolution, save for ridding it of more vile men. But V had lived his life knowing only revenge, and only personal motivations. After all, that is why he had planned to die on the Fifth. He did understand that the selfish act of revenge would not help lead a country forward.

Did he forget his own principles? Evey couldn't be certain.

Evey's head was beginning to hurt once more, making it all the more difficult to focus on this train of thought. The grey area surrounding the justification of V's actions continued to blur and swirl out of focus in her mind, and Evey groaned in discomfort. She would have time to think about this later, once her brain was less traumatized.

Gritting her teeth in determination, Evey slowly managed to rise into a standing position, although it was more close to a hunched, doubled over position. However, she was still able to support herself, and with the help of the furniture and walls, Evey was able to prop herself up and make her way towards her bedroom.

It would help her to get some rest, where she was more comfortable. And it would serve her well to be rested, for when V returned.

* * *

Thankfully, Eric Finch's office hadn't been too terribly out of the way for V. Granted, V would have gone no matter what, given the importance of his message. But the trip only set him back a couple of minutes, which he was completely willing to sacrifice if it meant assisting the revolution.

It took V hardly any time at all to reach the clandestine hideout of the rebel cell. It was an old paper mill on the outskirts of town, near enough for easy access, but far enough away as to not raise any questions. The building itself appeared to be in a rather dilapidated condition, but V saw through the clever façade.

Several oil drums were strewn about on the sides of the building, while trash littered the parking lot around the building. A few old, rusted cars sat broken down near the main entrance, which was plastered with "DANGER" and "DO NOT ENTER" signs. There was even a tattered "FOR LEASE" sign hanging by a few thin ropes over the windows. Those that weren't covered by the sign were boarded up with ply wood, all of which had been tagged with graffiti.

It was a clever ruse indeed, but nothing that V couldn't see past. All of the techniques were those that he recognized as tell-tale signs of a secret bunker or hide out; he had even used some of the techniques himself.

V himself sat upon a rooftop of an adjacent building, laying in wait until he had the perfect opportunity to strike. He had forced himself into doing a minimum of half an hour of surveillance, to learn whatever he could. V was a firm believer in thorough preparation, and although he was incredibly adaptable and able to think easily on his feet, V never liked going into a situation unprepared.

His thirty minutes of surveillance were nearing their end, and V hadn't seen anything. He was beginning to worry that he was too late, and the cell had already moved on. The building had shown no signs of life whatsoever; no movement in or out, no cars, no flickering lights through the cracks of the boards.

But why would there be? If the group was smart enough to sneak into a high profile party and detonate a bomb, certainly they wouldn't be foolish enough to make idiotic mistakes to give up their hide out. They had learned from their last encounter with V and Finch.

Or were they that smart? From his vantage point, V suddenly heard an enormous crash from inside the building, and the sounds of men shouting on the inside. V smiled deviously behind the mask; that was his cue.

As lithe as a cat, V leapt from his rooftop perch onto the fire escape and from there to the ground. The only sound was his boots smacking the concrete below. Given the commotion inside the building, they wouldn't be able to hear his approach.

V sprinted to the side of the building where he had noticed a side entrance. He waited just a few seconds to see if anyone would burst out of the doorway, and when no one did, he tried to open. It was locked, as he had expected, but locks had never proven to be a challenge for V. Applying just the right amount of exertion on the doorknob forced it open without so much as a groan in protest.

V slipped inside as though he were nothing more than a shadow. The noise inside had quieted within the last few minutes, although he doubted it was because they had heard him enter. V silently closed the door behind him before stalking off into the darkness.

Following the sounds of men arguing and cleaning up whatever had fallen, V tread silently through the building. He was surprised at how poorly guarded the facility was. He figured that a good portion of the cell had already relocated, and there were only a few men left here.

That is, until he rounded a corner and came face to face with three guards who were armed to the teeth. It took the first a few seconds to actually realize that V was standing in front of them. By the time he had realized this, it was already too late.

V had sprung into action the moment he saw the guards, taking them completely by surprise. The first guard was easily dispatched of; he simply tossed him aside like a rag doll. The second had proven no greater challenge than the first, and was easily subdued as well.

By the time V had reached the third, he was itching to retrieve his knives, who were screaming at him to employ them. They seemed to be quivering in offence at being ignored in his holster for so long. V fought back his urges to wield the deadly steel, and instead easily disarmed the man before rendering him unconscious.

The three guards were then tied together and heaped into a pile where Finch and his men could retrieve them later. The entire confrontation had taken a matter of seconds, and had alerted no one behind the doors. V waited outside, listening, for a moment.

"Damn it Matt, you fucking klutz! If no one knew we were in here, they definitely do now!" A deep voice growled. His accusation was quickly followed by the sounds of confrontation, and more shouting followed quickly after that.

"It was your bloody idea to move tonight in the first place! We got out clean, nobody knows anything, and we'll have several days before Stone and his lackeys even get a whiff of us!" The second man, presumably Matt, shouted.

"Will you both shut up? Screaming at each other is certainly not helping anything. We've got to move tonight. Don't be so dull, Matt." A third voice now sneered.

"Why? Like I said, nobody has any fucking clue it was us, and if they do, it will take them days to find us." Matt protested.

"Jesus Christ, Matt, you really think we're worried about Stone or Finch? Those morons won't have a clue for days. You remember what Listler said."

Now, V's curiosity was piqued. V had always considered the fact that Listler could have told X about him, although he doubted he would to preserve his sanity. Not many people would believe he was actually still alive. Was it possible Listler had told his henchmen about their encounter?

"Who do we have to look out for, then?"

"That son of a bitch V. Listler told us he saw him, and that he even shot the bastard." The third voice hissed.

V scowled; apparently, Listler had indeed opened his mouth. And because he had promised Finch not to kill these men, he was about to confirm Listler's story. He grumbled under his breath; could things get any worse? He sighed, and continued to listen for anything helpful.

"You actually believe that bollocks? There's a reason Listler is in prison, and we _don't_ take our orders from him anymore." Matt yelled.

"How do you explain Evey Hammond's escape? You think Finch could have gone in there all by himself and taken out those guards? Some of them had been turned into pincushions, Matt. Explain that. Something is up, and Listler's story is making more sense by the day."

"But he died when he sent parliament sky high! Nobody could have survived that!" Matt countered.

"Jesus Matt, you really are thick aren't you?" The third man snapped. "The bastard faked his own death and the girl covered for him so that he would become a martyr, and she would be the obvious choice to be put into power. I bet the son of a bitch is giving her orders as we speak."

V chose this moment to intervene in the men's conversation. He easily threw open the doors before storming into the room with an air of ferocity and rage.

"Unfortunately for you gentlemen, that isn't the case." He snarled.

All three men snapped their heads in his direction. Their eyes grew wide, and the men were all rendered speechless for brief second. Finally, the one V suspected to be Matt, managed to find his voice.

"Bloody hell, Listler was right!" he choked out. Matt stumbled backwards, crashing into a table and sending papers flying. He turned to run, but tripped and fallen over some hidden object. The young man did not get up, but V could hear his moans of pain. But at this point, V was hardly concerned with this coward.

The two other men seemed to have their wits about them after the surprise encounter with the infamous vigilante. They had both drawn their weapons, and had them aimed directly at V.

Now, V was finally able to unsheathe his bloodthirsty knives which caused him to smile slightly in glee. The familiar weight in his hands was comforting and encouraging, and the knives gave him a faint smirk before they were launched expertly towards the assailants.

It was just as he had rehearsed earlier that night in the gallery; the first knife disarmed the man, while the second knife that followed suit lodged itself deeply into the target's leg. The first recipient of this attack howled in agony, and this was enough to cause the second man to drop his gun without a second's hesitation. He had begun to cry like a child, begging V for mercy.

V was suddenly reminded of how Chancellor Sutler had done the exact same thing, right before Creedy had pulled the trigger. Why was it that men, who held themselves in such high regard, in such high power, could so easily be reduced to a sniveling infant?

V strode up the whimpering man, twirling his knives in a threatening manner. The man's eyes widened considerably as V approached him slowly, like a cat that had a mouse cornered. The man was paralyzed, and although he had considerable room to do so, made no move to get away from V as he grew closer. V delighted in the pure terror on his victim's face. Finally, V closed the distance between them and rested the cold steel of his blade against the tender, pink flesh of the man's neck.

"Normally, I wouldn't afford you or your friends the courtesy of sparing your lives. However, if you aren't useful to me, don't think I wouldn't delight in taking your miserable life right here and now." V hissed into the man's ear. This nearly brought the man into a fit.

"Now with that knowledge at the forefront of your mind, I trust you will make the smart decision of cooperating with my demands."

The man nodded furiously, and V continued:

"Excellent. Now who is the orchestrator of this little operation?"

The man, who could hardly contain himself, weakly pointed in the general direction of the man V had maimed with his knives.

"Very good. I have no further questions for you, but I do have some very specific instructions, and I suggest you listen closely." The man let out a strangled sob before V continued. "There are three guards outside this door. They are all unconscious, and soon you will join them, along with your friend Matt."

As if on cue, Matt began to groan even louder, and began to drag himself away. V rolled his eyes and ignored him. He certainly wouldn't get far like that. He continued:

"When you awaken, you will be in the custody of Eric Finch and Dominic Stone. You will tell them everything they want to hear; who the targets were, where the other cells are, and where you get your supplies. And most importantly, you will not mention me at all. Should I find out that any part of our deal was broken by any one of you, I shall find all of you, and kill you in a most excruciating manner. Am I clear?" V growled. He emphasized his point by applying a slight amount of pressure onto the dagger. A small, red droplet of blood streaking away from the point of the dagger, and the man nodded his head furiously while he bawled like a child. V put him out of his misery by hitting him over the head, and left him on the floor to be collected later.

Now, he had more pressing manners to attend to with a man who would be able to provide him with answers. V strode over to the mastermind of the entire plot, who was rolling on the ground, gasping in agony. Once V was looming over him, he ceased his movement entirely.

This was the man behind it all. This was the man who had injured his beloved Evey, and the man who easily could have _killed_ her. He had endangered the life of countless government officials, who were all trying to lead the revolution forward.

He was a tall, broad figure, only slightly smaller than V in stature. His brown hair had flecks of grey in the sides, revealing his true age. Although he was in great amounts of pain, he still managed to find a scowl of determination. V was impressed; this was the first ex-fingerman he had seen who hadn't crumbled in fear the second things went awry.

"I'm not going to tell you anything," the man hissed once V knelt down next to him. V nodded slightly at this, before reaching down and swiftly removing the dagger that was burrowed deep within this man's flesh. Fresh blood began to spurt out of the wound and the man yelped in pain.

"I must admit that I'm quite impressed," V began. "No one I have faced in your miserable group of cowards has been able to stare his death calmly in the face."

This did seem to cause the leader some amounts of discomfort; his eyebrows shot up in alarm, but he quickly returned his face to a mask of resolve.

"You're not going to kill me. You didn't kill the others, and they're worth nothing."

V laughed outright at this, "Do not be so sure."

V rose to his full height now, towering above the wounded creature below him. Yes, this man's confidence in V's compassion was quite misplaced. But before he had a chance to prove this, he had several questions for the man before he could exact his revenge.

"Who was the target of your attack?" V asked, rather nonchalantly.

"I just told you, I'm not going to…" The man stopped mid sentence, screaming in agony. V had casually lifted his boot and placed it quite forcefully onto the man's leg wound.

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

"Alright, alright! I'll tell you!" The man screamed. "We were aiming for Eric Finch, but Evey Hammond was our secondary objective."

Although it was horrifically selfish, V was inwardly relieved that Evey was not the primary target of the attack. He was still furious that she was the secondary, but the fact that she was not the primary target meant that she would be far safer.

"How many cells are remaining?"

The man gritted his teeth once more, as if bracing for the pain he knew his silence would earn him. He put up a valiant effort, but in the end, he was reduced to cries of agony once more.

"I'm not sure." He gasped out. "There were only a few left after Listler got arrested; I would suspect far less now that he's in prison. We aren't in contact with the others."

V nodded. He had suspected this from his own research; he just wanted to have it confirmed from someone on the inside. It was terribly frustrating, of course, but he was sure that with a few more days of research he would be able to find them.

But then he remembered the promise he had made himself that fateful November the Fifth, a year ago. He had resolved to die, vowing not to interfere with the new world that was about to take flight. He had mostly adhered to this promise, until Evey had become threatened in some way or another. Was he so blinded by his desire to protect her and for revenge to remember his promise?

As much as he wanted to kill the piece of filth at his feet in the most painful way he knew how, he could not. He was being completely selfish; this act of revenge not only endangered the revolution, but his own life, and relationship with Evey. This could shatter the very foundations of the fledgling government; anything that broke the trust of the people could send everything spiraling down. V had always known this; but how had he allowed himself to become so absorbed with revenge?

_Because you know nothing but revenge; you're a cold, calculating killer. It's all you'll ever amount to,_ hissed the dark voice inside of his head, awakening after a rather long slumber. It had been dormant for some time, thanks to the diligent work of Evey Hammond, who worked routinely to silence it. Now that she wasn't here, it would work to find some other weakness to prod into.

But wasn't the voice right? He _was_ a killer; he had come to this very spot with the premeditation to kill this man before him. And he had killed countless others in his quest for vengeance. He had blown up monuments, held people hostage, and even tortured the woman he claimed to love. Nobody could deny that he was a killer. Was that how Evey saw him? A cold-blooded killer? A monster?

V recalled how Evey had accused him of being a monster once she had been released from her false prison. It nearly killed him, although he agreed with her wholeheartedly. Her words were sharper than any of his knives, and with her simple declaration, she had shoved them directly into his heart.

The thought that Evey would think of him so was heart wrenching. He positively loathed himself for that. Was she ever frightened of him? She certainly had been, many times in the past; when he had first taken her up onto the Old Bailey, when he had taken her to the Gallery, and of course when he had viciously tortured her. It would make sense for her to be scared of him, to think of him in that way.

He could not kill this man. Whether it was for Evey or for the revolution or both, V could not. He wouldn't allow himself to, although his thirst for revenge was great.

Granted, he had already given the man an egregious wound in his leg, which was still bleeding profusely. It would require serious and immediate medical attention to prevent him from bleeding out. V thought for a moment before speaking to the man once more.

"I'm not going to kill you. But I offer you this: if you somehow don't bleed out before the authorities arrive, you will tell them exactly what they want to hear. You will not mention me and the fact that I am very much alive. You will not mention to them, or anyone else for that matter, because if you do, _then_ I will kill you. And I will take great pleasure in doing so." V took this moment to step on the man's wound once again, causing him to howl in agony. He may have decided not to kill him outright, but that doesn't mean he wasn't going to ease the vermin's suffering. Was this a fair enough compromise?

"You can't just leave me here!" The man wailed, clutching his leg desperately.

V considered this for a moment before replying, "Of course I can."

Then, V reached down and forcefully snagged the man's shirt collar before dragging him off to meet his fellow rebels. V tied him up with his comrades, much to the man's distress, before stalking off into the cool November morning to deliver a message to Finch.

* * *

The Shadow Gallery was a welcome sight indeed after several hours of hunting down rebels in the wee hours of the morning. The Gallery welcomed him home into its warm embrace, and V finally felt at ease once he had stepped across the threshold of the entrance. He removed his hat and cloak and returned them to their rightful spot, followed quickly by his knives.

V then made his way into his own personal bedroom, where he retrieved a fresh set of clothing. After he had selected the evening's ensemble, he quietly made his way into the bathroom. He had always made it a habit to shower and have a clean set of clothing after he went out on missions such as these, as keeping the filth hovering around him was most displeasing.

He was quick in the shower, feeling suddenly tired after his escapades. V was hardly ever tired, thanks to the virus that coursed through his blood system. But he was still a man, and required sleep in order to function. He simply required far less than the average man.

Once V had showered and dressed, his next course of action was to check on Evey. He had been completely silent when he had entered, ghosting about the Gallery so he would not wake her. V entered the living room of the Gallery, noiselessly approaching the chaise where he had left Evey.

A moment of panic coursed through V's entire body when he walked around the side of the chaise and found Evey missing, her blanket piled up on the floor. After the initial moment of fear and panic, V took a deep breath and tried to think logically. Although he had spent many nights on the chaise himself, he doubted it was the most comfortable arrangement, especially after a traumatic bombing. Had Evey awakened while he was gone, she probably would have gone someplace more comfortable.

Still silent, V crept down the hallway leading towards Evey's bedroom. V noticed immediately that the door was ajar, which was not how he had left it. Gently pushing it open enough to slip inside, V peeked into the room to find Evey resting motionless on her bed. V released a huge sigh of relief.

Evey, who was normally so tranquil and blissful in her sleep, did not appear so tonight. When she slept, Evey's face was usually a mask of calm, not reflecting her true stress or frustration. But tonight, her face was twisted into a mixture of pain, anger, and fear. Her brows twitched into a scowl, and V noticed her eyes moving rapidly underneath her lids. Perhaps she was having a nightmare?

V also noticed her small hands were balled into fists, which clenched intermittently. The blankets had been kicked off, causing her to curl into a tight ball to try and keep herself warm. V approached silently to remedy this, but was startled when Evey suddenly opened her eyes.

"V?" She queried softly, groggy with sleep.

"Yes, Evey? How are you feeling?" V asked.

V watched as Evey slowly tried to right herself. He offered to help, but she shook him off. V drew back, suddenly wary of her reaction. Perhaps the dark voice in the back of his voice had been right. Perhaps Evey was frightened of him.

"Did you kill those men?" Evey asked, her penetrating gaze losing none of its strength in her dazed condition. V was shocked at the sharpness and clarity in Evey's voice. He could tell from her tone of voice and from her fierce glare that she was angry.

V took a deep breath before responding.

"No."

He watched as Evey's hard stare suddenly transformed into a look of shock and confusion. Whatever she had planned to say next was now useless, and she suddenly deflated.

"What?" She gasped.

Evey had thought long and hard after she had returned to her room about what she would say to V when he had returned. She was angry, of course, but she would try to be understanding. She knew V too well. She could not stay mad at him for long, but she would certainly let him know what she thought of his late night gallivanting. But to hear that he hadn't done what he had intended came as quite a shock. She was pleased that he had not gone through with his plan, but shocked nonetheless. This was V she was talking about; revenge was his motivation, his driving force. Perhaps Finch had talked him out of it; she wasn't sure. Evey thought about this for a moment. She was relieved, but was she also disappointed?

"Finch asked me to leave him five of the men, so as to prevent a government cover up. My intent was to kill the mastermind behind the plot, but I…I couldn't." V admitted, feeling suddenly weak.

Evey knit her brows together in confusion. V couldn't do it? She had trouble believing that it was because the man was too great a match for him. She suspected that really, V _wouldn't_ kill the man.

"Why?" She asked.

"I realized that I had gone back on my word. I had promised to remain uninvolved, and I broke that promise." V took a deep breath before continuing. "Perhaps I was blinded by my desire to have revenge; it's all I have ever really known. But Evey, staying uninvolved, especially when it comes to threats against your life, is very difficult for me."

Evey softened her gaze. Of course Evey should have realized that this was going to be hard for V. He was a man of action, and his action usually involved revenge at the very core of it. She could not expect him to go from revolutionary hero to a simple citizen of England all in one night.

"I have done many horrible things, Evey. None of them I regret, but they were horrible none the less."

Evey gave him a look of confusion, "What are you saying, V?"

V sighed, and began to speak, struggling for words.

"I simply…I don't need another black mark. I don't want to be only a murderer, Evey. That's all I am."

There. He had said it. He had admitted one of his weaknesses, one of the voice's jeering taunts, to the woman who could very well agree to it all. V had to say it; he had to finally get it off of his chest. He felt foolish, but above all, he felt vulnerable and weak, which was something he almost never felt. V was constantly trying to prevent Evey from climbing over these walls, but now he was destroying them for her.

Evey was stunned at V's sudden show of emotion. He was never one for great shows of emotion, and usually kept his feelings bottled tightly inside. Evey was becoming far more skilled at chipping away his protective armor, but never before had such a rush come out all at once.

"V, do you know what you're saying? When I think of you, murderer is the farthest thing from my mind. Do you know what I think of when I think of you?" Evey asked. She continued without waiting for an answer from V. "I think of an incredible man, whose ideas changed the world. I think of a man who is compassionate, courageous beyond belief, self-less, intelligent, and inspiring. When I think of you, I think of the Count of Monte Cristo, and Shakespeare, and all of your quotes and books. I think of the Wurlitzer, and all of the dances we've shared."

Evey tried to stand then, but her sudden burst of words and activity caused her head to spin. On instinct, V reached out to steady her, and this time she did not pull away. He helped her back to the bed, where they sat together in a tight embrace.

"When I think of you, I think of the man I love with all of my heart." Evey concluded. "And I do _not_ think of you as a killer."

Behind the mask, V let a single tear slide down his scarred face, before a smile crept onto his marred lips. "Thank you, Evey."

Evey wrapped her arms around V even tighter then, to assure him that what she had just said was true. They stayed like this for a good while, until Evey let out a sigh mixed with exhaustion and discomfort.

"How are you feeling Evey?" V asked, hoping that this time he would get an answer.

He felt Evey shrug. "Better now that I've had some sleep. I still don't remember much of the party, but I'm starting to think more clearly."

V nodded. "That's to be expected. But you will be seeing a doctor first thing in the morning, and that is not something we are going to argue about." Evey grumbled slightly against him, but made no real protest. She knew it was the smart thing to do.

They sat for a few more moments of silence, before Evey let out another puff of air. V glanced down at her, wondering what was causing her such distress.

"Is something the matter, my dear?"

"It's just…I'm sorry, V." She blurted out. V chuckled slightly.

"Whatever for?

"I shouldn't expect you to stay so uninvolved in the revolution you created! I just shouldn't have been expecting you to become a different person. And I understand that you don't want to involve yourself, but you can't help yourself. There should be a balance. I want you to stay involved, but do so in a way that _isn't_ being involved. Does that make sense? I'm probably making no sense, am I?" Evey mumbled.

"I understand what you're trying to say, Evey. I do agree. I'm sure that there is a balance that can be struck, but we should discuss it once again in the morning after you have had more rest, and have seen a doctor." V suggested. Evey nodded slightly before releasing her tight grip on V and falling back into the mattress.

V rose, and tucked the blankets back around Evey. She opened her eyes once again, giving V a questioning look. She was about to open her mouth, when V beat her to the punch. He already knew exactly what she was going to ask.

"Just a moment, love." V quickly strode out of the room and into the main rooms of the Gallery. He switched off most of the lights, trying to create the darkest atmosphere for Evey's aching head that he possibly could. He left only the light in the kitchen on, so that if Evey woke in the night, she would not be in complete darkness.

After turning out the lights, V returned to Evey's bedroom, where he found her already wiggled closer to his side of the bed. Seeing her curled up in the middle of the bed, waiting for him, was heartwarming, and also sent butterflies into his stomach.

It appeared as though Evey were already asleep, but V knew better. It was a game of hers, he had discovered, which he suspected went back to when she was a child. V sat down on the bed, and took off his leather boots. This was becoming a bit of a ritual, lately, and V was certainly not complaining about it. Once he had carefully placed his boots to the side, V eased himself the rest of the way onto the bed where he was greeted by Evey's arms.

Evey immediately curled herself into V's warm side, wrapping her arms around his muscular torso. It wasn't long until Evey's exhausted and bruised mind were lulled to sleep by the sound of V's beating heart and the warmth radiating off of him.

V too was soon feeling sleep tugging at his consciousness, and was soon pulled under. But for the first time in a long time, V fell asleep without feeling like a monster.

**A/N Hope you enjoyed the conclusion of the last chapter's excitement! I also hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving. The next chapter should not take me long to write, but we are getting down to crunch time school wise so I might be pretty busy. R&R! (Seriously, you guys keep me motivated more than you will know!) Few shout outs:**

**Vanillasyrup, so glad you're OK after the storm! And so glad that you're enjoying the story :) **

**Jacefacexx, how did I forget to shout out to you in the last chapter? Seriously, whats up with that! Thanks so much for your kind review, it means a lot, and has in fact filled my skies with rainbows, hearts, and glitter :)**

**Guest, Well there are lots of you, and I love you all. But specifically the review of Chp. 16, thank you so much for your lovely review. Get an account so I can shout out properly! :D**


	18. Chapter 18

**Attention: This update is dedicated to all of my readers out there (and everyone) who are currently dealing with the hell we call finals. I've seen a few reviews that have mentioned this story helping you guys get through it, and I'm truly truly glad that this story has brought you all some respite. So without further ado, some delightful Christmas fluff to ease you all into, through, or out of finals week!**

Chapter 18

Nearly a month after the attack on November the Fifth, Evey had returned to work. Her concussion had been severe, and her doctors had told her that she would need several weeks of bed rest in order to recover. She had initially been horrified by the idea of spending weeks bed ridden, but V had been able to reason with her.

Evey had stayed with V in the Shadow Gallery for most of those weeks, which made them far more bearable. They spent the days together in happy companionship. V would often read to her, or they would watch movies together. Granted, most of her days were spent sleeping or lying in bed with a crushing headache. But on days that she felt well enough, she and V would spend hours talking, reading, cooking, and all sorts of things they usually never had time to do. They had been some of the happiest weeks Evey could ever remember.

Evey's return to work was also a return to reality. It was wonderful to be back working for the revolution, but she still missed her days and nights spent in the Shadow Gallery with V. She had been reminded of her days as V's captive, or as she preferred to think of it now, very unwilling guest. The days and nights seemed to blur together, especially with no windows to mark the passage of time. But the difference now was that Evey actually enjoyed her time spent below, rather than resenting it.

So it was after a long first day back, full of exhausting meetings and mountains of deadlines to meet, that Evey was finally making her way back down towards the Shadow Gallery. She walked quickly through the tunnels, far too preoccupied with her evening plans with V to notice the new lights he had installed, just for her. Evey even skipped her usual game of balancing on the old rail. She simply wanted to be back inside the Gallery, and V's arms, as soon as she could possibly manage.

Finally, Evey pushed open the door to the Gallery and stepped inside with a radiating smile. Evey closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, finally feeling at ease now that she was here. She let out her breath in a deep, contented sigh before opening her eyes. When she did, she let out a small gasp of surprise and delight.

Sitting in the middle of the Gallery living room was a tree. But it was not just any kind of tree. A full, gorgeous Christmas tree sat expectantly before her, bare of any trimmings and ornaments save for some very tasteful white lights, as though it were waiting for her. And the tree was not the only thing waiting for her.

V sat poised on the chaise with an amused tilt to the mask, with a smile to match behind it. He waited there for a few moments, taking in Evey's reaction. He had been planning this from the moment he had escorted Evey to her flat early this morning. After the arduous task of maneuvering a Christmas tree secretly into the tunnels, V was quite eager to see Evey's reaction, though he knew she would love it.

"Oh, V!" Evey gasped in wonder, feeling like a small child once again.

V chuckled softly before rising to join her. Evey threw her arms around him, and V welcomed her readily into his warm embrace. This was _exactly_ the kind of reaction he had been hoping for. They broke apart, and Evey was immediately drawn to the evergreen like a moth to a flame. V watched with amusement as Evey delicately touched the smooth boughs of the tree. She was completely engrossed, and V could see the child-like amazement lighting up her face.

"It's beautiful, V! How on earth did you get it down here?" Evey laughed aloud, trying to imagine V struggling with the tree in the underground tunnels.

"A magician never reveals his secrets, my dear," V added with a mysterious flash of his hand. Although her ideas were not far off the mark, V certainly did not need to embellish them.

Evey shot V a wistful glance before she turned her attention back to the tree. Now the rich, earthy scent of pine was working its way into her nostrils, hypnotizing her. Evey had almost forgotten the wonderful smell of pine trees. It had been years since she had had a Christmas tree; the last time she recalled having a tree was the year her brother became ill.

Sadness crept into her smile at this bittersweet memory, and V certainly took notice. He placed a gentle, reassuring hand on Evey's shoulder. Evey looked up at V, a look of appreciation on her face. The memories of Christmas past certainly brought up painful memories, but Evey was sure that she would finally be able to create some new memories with the man before her.

"Are you hungry, Evey?" V asked suddenly, wanting to change the subject.

Evey turned away from the tree then, her eyes still lit up in wonder and excitement. The corners of her lips turned up in a small grin, and she nodded.

"Starving, actually. I'll help you," She announced in a tone of voice that made it clear that she _would_ be helping, whether V liked it or not. V only rolled his eyes in response to this, although Evey would never see this.

The pair made their way into the kitchen. Evey smirked to see that V had already anticipated her hunger, and had everything sitting out in preparation.

"I hope soup is alright with you Evey. I thought it might be a nice, warm dish to contrast the cold winter's eve." V asked as he carefully retrieved his apron from its hook on the wall. With the grand flourish expected of any true showman, V gracefully donned the obscenely colorful garment and tightly secured it to his waist.

V's affinity for these atrocious, flashy aprons had always been lost on Evey, although she did appreciate their whimsical charm. They were so contrasting to the man who wore them, but at the same time, such an essential part of him. Although Evey always had to roll her eyes when she saw him in one of the aprons, it was such an intrinsic quirk of his that she couldn't help but find it endearing.

She had also noticed in her time in the gallery that V had several different aprons that he wore on different occasions. They were usually floral print, which incredibly bright colors that clashed horrifically. Evey often caught herself wondering if he specifically chose the most hideous aprons he could find.

But tonight, V had on an apron that Evey had never seen before. When V had turned to face her with this newest apron displayed proudly on his chest, Evey couldn't fight the few giggles and titters that escaped her lips.

"Is that a new apron, V?" Evey finally managed, trying to keep a look of playful innocence on her face.

V tilted the mask ever so slightly, and below the mask he was smirking at Evey's girlish laughter. This had been another surprise for her tonight, and he was quite pleased with both of her reactions. He decided to play along with Evey's innocent tone.

"Why yes, Evey, it is a new acquisition. How kind of you to notice," V replied playfully, giving her a slight bow. "What do you think?"

The last question, V actually was quite interested in. Although he knew of Evey's opinion on his aprons in general, he was always interested to know what she thought about each individual one. He knew that there were a few in his collection that Evey positively loathed, and those were the ones he reserved for his cooking in solitude.

Evey stepped closer to V to inspect the apron closer, and of course take a few more flirtatious steps towards her beloved. She could feel the weight of V's powerful gaze following her as she circled him, observing the apron at every angle, like a photographer observing a model.

It was a Christmas apron. And it was positively hideous, which was of course why V had thought it charming in the first place. Evey would admit that in this case, it was delightfully gaudy, and was a wonderful addition to the Christmas cheer of the Gallery. Reindeer pranced around the trim of the apron, while a very plump, cheerful looking Santa Claus was laughing on the front of the apron. And for the background, Merry Christmas was written in every language imaginable. It was perfectly garish and incredibly tacky, but Evey thought it was quite wonderful.

Evey took the final step closer into V's arms, so that she could truly inspect the apron closely. At least, that would be her excuse. She eyed it with a look of fierce determination for a few minutes, and while she tapped her chin thoughtfully. Finally, she looked up to V with a coy smile.

"I think that the pattern has promise, but I have to mark you down on the craftsmanship of the apron." Evey concluded.

V now returned Evey's embrace, and looked down at her fondly. Mark him down? Well he couldn't have that, now could he?

"I will accept nothing less than a perfect score; perhaps there is something I can do to…sway the judge's opinion?" V purred, shocking himself by his own flirtatiousness. Evey seemed to be a slight shocked herself, but played it off quite well.

"Bribery? What a vile thought!" She giggled.

V chuckled as well, "Bribery? Oh no, love, not bribery. That word has such negative connotations. Persuasion, perhaps?"

Evey thought for a moment before responding, "Well if you're so adamant, I suppose there is one thing that could perhaps _persuade_ me to improve your score."

"Oh is there? And what would that be, my dear?" V asked, although he suspected he already knew her answer.

She flashed V a devious smile, before reaching up on her tip toes to present Guy Fawkes with one of her electrifying kisses. The familiar shock that went through V's body was welcomed readily; V had been anticipating Evey's kiss all day.

But God, V would have done just about anything to be able to kiss her properly, and not have the enamel lips acting as a barrier. But the snarling voice in his mind reminded him why that was simply not an option.

Evey finally broke away, and gaze at V with her large, hazel eyes. The pair stayed like this for a few long moments, before V's old habits of aversion began to kick in, and his walls slowly began to rise. He cleared his throat, and loosened his grip on Evey's waist.

"Perhaps we should begin preparing the evening's meal?" He asked, trying to disguise the building nerves in his voice.

Evey's smile fell slightly, "Of course."

He sighed inwardly. It always seemed to be two steps forward, one step back. He loathed the fact that he could not be everything Evey deserved. One moment, he seemed to be able to shake the crushing weight of his own personal baggage, and the next, he was entirely saddled by it. Some nights, he would have been able to hold Evey's gaze far longer; some nights, he would not have been able to at all. There was no consistency, save for in the most routine shows of affection.

He could not even kiss the woman he loved properly, although he knew the obvious reasons behind this. But it was still a horrible thought; something as simple as a kiss, which was an incredibly simple gesture, could not be managed.

For all of Evey's trying and patience, the more cynical part of V wondered how much longer she could handle it. Would she become fed up with trying to breach his impenetrable walls of self-defense? Would he one day just push her away completely?

Evey deserved far more than that, and he wanted to at least make another effort, albeit a different effort tonight.

Evey had already made her way to the counter, and began to examine the ingredients of the soup and read over the recipe that V had left out for them to consult. He watched her for a few moments, before taking a deep breath. He knew what he had to do.

With slow, slightly trembling hands, V began to remove the black leather gloves that trapped his hands. Evey had her back to him, so she could not see this process, but V was certain she could sense the sudden tension behind her. V gently laid the gloves on the table before moving to join Evey at the countertop with all of the ingredients.

Meanwhile, Evey had begun to pour over the recipe V had left out.

"V, would you start cooking the beef?" Evey asked, distracted. "I'm going to cut up the vegetables."

"Certainly, Evey." V responded. He slowly reached out then, grabbing the package of beef he had set aside earlier. He did so in such a way as to give Evey plenty of time to see his disfigured hands, and for him to carefully watch her reaction.

Evey, who V often pointed out, had rather astute powers of observation. She immediately saw that V was missing his usual black gloves, although she had suspected that V was up to something. She had been able to feel the tension rise behind her as V had taken the gloves off. She watched through her peripheral vision as he tentatively grabbed the needed ingredients. Evey smiled softly, but made no indication that she had even noticed.

This had been a more regular occurrence, especially with all the time she had spent in the Gallery with her concussion. It had surprised her of course, but due to the fact that V was actually taking such large steps out of his comfort zones. He usually went gloveless while he cooked, as he was doing now, but until her weeks spent in the Gallery, Evey usually did not have a chance to watch him cook.

There had been other times as well. Evey would be lying on the chaise, and V would come out of the kitchen with a cup of tea without the protection of his gloves. Occasionally, V would be doing some house work while Evey rested, and he would leave his gloves off for a few moments. It was obvious to Evey how dreadfully uncomfortable it made him, but she was impressed and touched that he would make such efforts. She knew that V was trying to prove to her that he was trying. Evey was thrilled by his touching efforts, but she wished he didn't feel so obligated. It was as though he believed she would leave him given the chance.

After a few minutes of chopping and dicing, Evey decided that some music was in order. She put down the knife she was using and washed her hands, and was making her way out of the kitchen when V's voice stopped her.

"Evey, perhaps you would prefer the CD sitting on the table. I acquired a CD player, which should be sitting next to it." V called out.

Evey pursed her lips and knit her brows together. Why on earth would V ever prefer a CD player to his delightful Wurlitzer? V seemed to be able to read her mind, and turned from his cooking to look at her.

"Trust me, Evey. There is a method to my madness." He said softly.

Evey rolled her eyes, but with a slight smile she made her way out of the kitchen once more to find the mysterious CD and its accompanying player. They were sitting on the table in the main room, as V said. When she finally laid eyes on the disk, a huge grin spread onto her face and she let out a joyful laugh. She turned, and saw V watching her from the kitchen. Evey would have sworn she could feel V smiling right alongside her.

"Classic Christmas Collection?" Evey beamed. "How perfect!"

"I thought you might like something more festive, but sadly, the Wurlitzer does lack in holiday spirit. This will have to do."

"No V, it's absolutely wonderful. Truly." Evey said, turning now to pop in the disk. She hit play, and soon the sound of "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" began to play from the speakers.

With another smile, Evey and V returned to their cooking. After the chopping, browning, and stirring was finished, the pair left the soup to simmer on the stove.

"Perhaps while we wait, you would like to trim the tree?" V suggested, gesturing to a rather large box that Evey had failed to notice earlier. Evey smiled for what felt like the hundredth time that night before trotting over to the box.

Once the lid was carefully removed, Evey let out a small gasp. Inside were the most elegant ornaments Evey had seen in a long while. They were simple orbs, ranging in size and color, but each had intricate frosting of snowflakes on them. Evey selected one that was on top, which she noticed with a wistful smile, was a deep violet. She then noticed that next to that ornament was a set of beautiful crystal stars and snowflakes, which caught and reflected the light even inside their box.

"What do you think?" V asked eagerly.

"They're gorgeous V! Although I'm guessing I don't want to know where you got them." Evey winked.

V chuckled, "Some things are better left a mystery, my dear."

Evey rose then, and hung the first ornament ceremoniously. In the background, the song switched fortuitously to "O Christmas Tree". V moved to help her then, selecting a few ornaments from the box and moving around the tree, selecting a good spot for each. The glass decorations caught the soft light from the trees, causing them to sparkle and wink at the decorators. They created an entirely new warmth inside the high gallery walls, bringing with them a sense of magic.

The pair filled the hour adorning the boughs of their tree with the ornaments, all the while sharing conversation. Evey told V about her Christmases before her brother died, and all the happy memories from those simpler times while V asked her all sorts of questions. V loved these stories; they helped him forget his own lack of memories from his days before Larkhill.

For her own part, Evey watched V carefully as they decorated. She had certainly taken notice of the fact that V still hadn't put his gloves back on. Of course Evey made it a point not to stare, for she knew how sensitive V was underneath his intimidating exterior. But she did steal a few glances, out of curiosity more than anything. She once again noticed that the color, which she had first remembered to be an angry red, was nothing more than a deep shade of pink which faded patchily along his hands. The light from the tree did play up the deep ridges along his hands, accentuating their shadows and making them appear far deeper than she thought they really ought to be. But each time she saw his hands, she was not put off in the slightest. The scars did not frighten or disgust her, but merely intrigued her.

Finally, Evey and V had used up all of the ornaments, save for the finishing touch: The star. V had made sure to find the most spectacular star he could, and Evey certainly was impressed. It was constructed of intricate gold wire, which was bedecked with crystals of every color imaginable.

"Would you like the honors, Evey?" V asked, offering her the star.

Evey stared at it for a moment, thinking, before she looked up and V and shook her head.

"I want you to do it," She smiled, thinking that perhaps, this could be their new tradition. A new memory for the both of them.

V was slightly shocked at her answer, but smiled at her sincerity. He bowed his head in thanks, before stepping onto the small step stool he had retrieved for Evey to use earlier. V positioned the star with meticulous care, making sure that it was perfectly centered and balanced before he stepped down next to Evey. They took a few steps back to admire their work, and Evey clapped her hands in delight.

"It's absolutely perfect," She whispered softly, while V nodded in agreement.

It had become an instinct. Something simple, carefree, casual. Evey reached out her delicate hand to capture V's, wanting to feel their two separate hands meld into one. She twined their fingers together in this effortless, natural gesture.

But her fingers did not meet smooth leather. They met coarse, textured skin.

Evey's eyes widened slightly in confusion, but her reaction wasn't nearly as strong as V's.

V suddenly felt as though he had been struck by lightning. The feeling of Evey's soft, malleable hand in his thick, disgusting one was so entirely foreign to him that he had no idea how to react except in sudden panic. He ripped his hand away from the woman beside him, sucking in a sharp breath as he did so.

Evey felt V's hand pull sharply away, and her mind was suddenly running wild. What an _idiot_ she was! She had been thinking about V's hands all night long, and suddenly, she decided that it would be a good idea to try and hold them while V was already nervous?

"V! Oh no, V, I'm so sorry! Please forgive me, I wasn't thinking…" Evey began, rattling off every apology she could muster.

V's heart was beating twice its normal rate; he was surprised Evey couldn't hear it. He had to steady himself considerably, and he took several deep breaths while Evey continued to apologize profusely. Finally, once he was a bit more calm, he was able to take in the situation.

He suddenly felt awful; Evey stood before him, almost in tears she was so concerned about offending him. It wasn't her fault at all, and he certainly wasn't angry with her. It had been nearly twenty years since his last skin-to-skin contact with anyone. After leading such a hidden, secluded life, the moment was certainly a shock. But it only made V hate himself all the more. He was again brought back to his earlier thought, about Evey growing tired of waiting for him.

V took a deep breath before slowly reaching out and tentatively clasping one of Evey's trembling hands in his. He was careful to leave a loose grip, should Evey decide she wanted to break away. V was convinced that the texture of his skin could not possibly be comfortable or desirable.

Evey did flinch in shock when she felt V's rough hand grab hers, but it was not due to the actual texture of the skin. She looked up at V through her slightly bleary eyes. V stood rigid, but she could feel the emotion pouring out of the black screens.

"No. Do not apologize, Evey; it is I who should be apologizing." V began softly.

Evey began her protest immediately, but V cut her short.

"Evey, please." Once she fell silent, V continued. "I am sorry, Evey. For so many things. You should never have the need to apologize for something like that. You deserve so much, Evey, and there is so much I cannot give to you. I know not what I did to receive such a caring woman in my life, but I do know that you will not wait forever."

Suddenly, Evey's shocked, worried expression turned into a look of determination.

"Then you're a fool, V." Evey stated simply.

V seemed quite taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor: "What?"

"I said that you're a fool for thinking that V. You're a fool for thinking all of that, but especially the last part." She explained. "V, you need to understand that I'm not going anywhere. And you may not think you're what I deserve, but you certainly are what I _want_."

Evey finished her statement with a strong squeeze of V's hand, which after a few moments of hesitation, V returned. It was a simple gesture, but it said more than any words could have.

Evey then stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss on the mask's enamel cheek, before turning back to look at the tree.

"You know V; after my family decorated the Christmas tree, we would always sit down to watch a Christmas movie together."

V laughed softly at her egregious insinuation.

"Perhaps you'll find a few you would like to watch in the collection, Evey." He suggested, although he knew for a fact that she would find several. They had been placed there mere hours ago at his own hand, and he was certain that she would enjoy his selections.

Evey released his hand then, and V was suddenly acutely aware of the glaring absence of the soft warmth. He could simply not allow that to continue. V strode over to the chaise, and waited patiently for Evey to join him.

Once Evey had popped in a disk, she turned and smiled before sliding onto the chaise next to V. Automatically, their hands found each other, and after a small flinch on V's part, everything was back to normal.

The opening credits for "A Christmas Carol" began to play, and V nodded in approval. He watched Evey for a moment, whose eyes had glazed over with nostalgia. Evey felt the pressure from V's gaze, and explained.

"This was my mom's favorite Christmas movie. We watched it all the time during the season, but I haven't seen it in years." She sniffed back a small tear before she looked up with a radiant smile. "But it's time for new memories, don't you think?"

"Yes, love. It is high time for new memories."

**A/N **

**Wooo! Hope all you lovelies liked this short little fluffiness. The next chapter is still going to be Christmas themed, but it will be longer and will involve some more...character development ;) (So yeah, some more fluff. Shut up, I cant do anything but fluff during finals.) And honestly, I really hope you guys enjoyed this and that it gives you all a little ray of sunshine in the gloomy days of finals. Good luck on all of them, from the bottom of my heart, I feel you! R&R, it truly truly means the world to me. **

**As usual, some shout outs:**

** AkanePandora, well, I squealed like a little girl and grinned ear to ear when I read your review! :) Thanks so much!**

** Brokenforyouspilledforyou, I hope the wait for Chapter 18 wasn't too bad ;) Feel free to hit me up about the grammatical errors, I try to catch the ones spellchecker misses but after writing it, its hard for me to catch myself :P Thanks so much for the review, enjoy and keep reviewing! :D**

**To all of my usual lovelies, thanks so much as usual for your delightful reviews. **

**AND ALSO (God these A/N's are like half the goddamn chapter...) I want to wish you all Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Joyous Kwansa, or just a lovely December day! Sorry for all of you guys out there who don't celebrate Christmas, I do, so I hope you don't mind the Christmas fluff! Happy Holidays! :)  
**

**R&R**


	19. Chapter 19

**I AM SO SO SORRY for the delay! I have no idea what I was thinking when I thought I would get this out before Christmas. (Clearly, I wasn't.)If it's any consolation, this is the longest chapter yet, and I really really hope you enjoy it! **

Chapter 19

What do you get the man who has everything? Or at least has the ability to easily acquire whatever it is he needs?

That was the question that had been plaguing Evey's mind for days. Christmas was only days away, and she hadn't come even close to finding something for V that she thought he would like, or something that he didn't already have hidden in the Shadow Gallery.

It was a bitterly cold December morning, and Evey had the day off from work. Normally, she would have gone immediately to the Gallery to spend at least some of her day with V. But she had told him she needed to take care of a few things at her flat, which was only partially true. In reality, Evey was trying to find _something_ for V.

The freezing wind ripped at Evey's coat, and caused the few curls of hair that had escaped from her hat to bite and sting at Evey's pink cheeks. Evey had recalled the weatherman mentioning a possibility of snow, although for now, it appeared that the skies would hold off on the forecast.

Evey was walking through a quaint little shopping district. She had wandered into it completely by accident, after parking near some shops a few blocks over, and getting slightly lost. It was not very busy, and Evey suspected that it had something to do with the older, more unique shops that lined the street. It was full of eclectic shops, from an antique store to a small boutique dedicated entirely to used book sales. Another storefront was a gallery, filled with beautiful paintings.

Most shops were very old; however, Evey could tell that most hadn't been used since before Sutler took power. Many of the storefronts were run down and in need of some repairs and a fresh coat of paint. Even in the cold weather, Evey could see some employees out trying to spruce up the little stores. The quiet charm of this small neighborhood was certainly not lost on Evey; it reminded her of a time gone by, one that she hoped would return now that the revolution was succeeding.

While she walked down the street, looking for a store to duck into, Evey couldn't help but think of how much V would love the little square. It was full of all sorts of contraband that had been restricted under Sutler, and had a definite air of mystery and nostalgia surrounding it. She wondered idly if he had ever been into this area before.

When Evey walked by the old antique store, something in the window had immediately caught her eye. She paused for a moment, and peered past the glass window and at the ancient object that had called out to her faintly. It was an old record player; Evey had never owned one, but her parents had told her about her great-grandparents using them when they were young.

The bronze horn was dirty and tarnished, but somehow it still managed to flash Evey a sparkle, reminding her that it was once glistening and new. The wood had darkened with age, but Evey could tell that it had been a cherished part of someone's home. They had taken wonderful care of it, although the years had not been so kind.

"Got your eye on the old record player, eh?" Evey gave a start and turned to face where the voice had come from.

A friendly looking old man stood before Evey, cloth and cleaning solution in hand. His leathered face had wrinkled in time, but a flicker of youthfulness sparkled in his eyes. At one point in time, Evey guessed that he would have been quite tall, but now he stood hunched over, making him appear far smaller than he really was. The man gave Evey a warm smile before continuing.

"Didn't mean to startle you, miss." He apologized.

Evey let out a light laugh. "It's quite alright. Are you the owner of this shop?" She inquired.

The man nodded, "Guilty as charged. It's been in the family for generations, but we're just reopening now. But I'll tell you what, why don't we go inside and I'll make us some tea? I'll tell you the whole story where it's nice and warm."

The old Evey would have never agreed to such a proposition, but now Evey nodded eagerly. The old man slowly opened the door and held it open for Evey, who smiled graciously before entering.

Inside, the shop was just as fascinating and charismatic as the outside, and as the old man who owned the place. Evey smiled in delight at all of the intriguing old odds and ends that sat quietly around the store. There were all sorts of knick knacks, including old lunch tins, comic books, and appliances. Evey even spied an old tuba lying in the corner. She was positive that V would have loved this hidden treasure.

"So do you have a particular interest in antiques?" The old man asked, making his way towards the back of the shop. Evey followed slowly, taking in all of the wonderful items that surrounded them. "Or were you just walking by?"

"A little bit of both, you could say. A…friend of mine got me interested in antiques, and it was just a coincidence that I stumbled into your shop." She responded.

The old man turned suddenly, with a wry smile on his face. "There are no coincidences, miss." He said in a soft voice.

Evey's eyes widened suddenly, being reminded immediately of V. Yes, she and V had had this conversation many times before. It was one of the first things she had learned about him; he did not believe in coincidence. She smiled back at the old man before replying:

"My friend says the same thing."

"It sounds like your friend and I would get along quite well." The man turned now and continued walking through the labyrinth of aisles. Evey was shocked; it hadn't looked like this shop went back all that far. But she of all people should have known not to judge a book from its cover.

"I suspect that you two would," Evey responded. The two men really would be fast friends, she concluded, what with their love of antiques and other quirky similarities.

Finally, the duo reached a small kitchenette, which had a small table and two chairs arranged around it. The old man set in on putting a kettle on the range, but not before he pulled out a chair for Evey to sit in. Evey thanked the man for his gentlemanly gesture before taking a seat. She carefully removed her coat and hat, as it really was quite warm in the tiny shop.

Once the old man had put the kettle on, he set out two tea cups on saucers and placed a tea bag in each. After he had arranged all of this, he slowly lowered himself into the seat opposite Evey. Now that they were in better light, Evey had a chance to more closely observe him. His face was angular, with deep hazel eyes glistening within his sunken face. Evey guessed that when he was young, he would have been a handsome man. He smiled cordially at her once more, before beginning his story once again.

"My great-grandfather bought this shop from a family of immigrants, who had opened a launder mat here. He bought it cheap, with the intention of having this become the family home. But when he had bought the old place, the old family had left tons of old junk inside of it. The family stayed upstairs in the apartment, while my great grandfather tried to sort out all of the old things in the storefront. My great-grandfather decided that it could be re-sold, and since my family was in desperate need of some money, he set it outside to sell.

His business was instantly popular. He sold the old things for cheap prices, so other people down on their luck like them could afford them. He was instantly popular with everyone in the neighborhood. My great-grandfather was generous, and often allowed people to pay however much they could for his goods. Soon, wealthier folks learned of his business, and gave him things that they didn't want any longer. And when he died, my grandfather took over, and so on, until you get to me." He concluded, now rising to turn of the kettle which had begun to whistle.

Evey was fascinated. Just one little building had so much character and history; she loved it. She couldn't wait to tell V about this.

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you stay in business when Sutler came into power? He would have shut a place like this down instantly." She questioned.

The old man nodded solemnly before setting down a steaming cup of tea before Evey. She thanked him, and once he had sat down, he continued.

"Sutler did shut us down. My father was on his last legs of life; this shop was all he had left. Business wasn't doing all that well, and my brothers had all gone to find more profitable work to support their families. But my father still loved his job, and so he stayed." He took a smile sip of tea, grimaced, and added a few cubes of sugar. He offered some to Evey, who politely took a few cubes for her own cup.

"For a while, my father kept the shop open illegally. I warned him that it was a terrible idea, and that he would get arrested, or worse. But he just shrugged it off; he always was a stubborn old man. He still lived alone in the old apartment upstairs, but I came to visit him often."

A small tear slid down the old man's wrinkled cheek, and Evey was very concerned that she had upset him. Before she could protest, however, the man continued.

"I came to visit him one day, but the shop had been raided. Most of the books, works of music, and antique papers or magazines had been taken, along with anything else Sutler had blacklisted. The store was a disaster. When I found my father, he was sitting behind the counter, crying. He had been beaten, and was bleeding all over. But my father was only concerned about the books. All he could do was cry, 'they have the books, they took the books.'"

Evey felt a tear of her own slide down her face, and she quickly wiped it away.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea."She offered.

The old man looked at her with a sincere smile, although the sadness lingered in his eyes. "Now don't you apologize. There was no way you could have known, and I can't change the past anymore than you can."

He patted Evey's had softly, and rose to take his cup of tea to the counter. Evey finished the last few sips of hers, and placed hers next to the man's.

"Did you have any children?" Evey asked, hoping that this would be happier topic. "I would hope that someone is going to take on the family business."

"I had a son, but he died a long time ago, along with my wife. He was just 18 when he had been taken from us, and we can only assume that he died shortly after. My wife died of heartbreak; she couldn't handle the loss." The man replied quietly. He turned then with yet another smile, before adding, "Now don't you go apologizing for that one either. It was an honest question."

"Alright, I won't." Evey allowed.

"Good. Now, I believe you were looking at a record player, if I'm not mistaken?" The old man gestured towards the front of the store, changing the subject. Evey lead the way to the front of the store, once again allowing her eyes to wander as she walked. She was amazed at how much was inside this one small store.

"How on earth did you ever get so much stuff, especially after the raid?" Evey queried.

The man shrugged behind her. "You find things, and people give you things. Many people gave me their things to look after once the regime took over, but have never returned to claim them. The store remained closed when I took over, but I still ran a bit of a side business, if you will."

They reached the store front then, and the old man went forward to retrieve the old player from the window display. Evey was surprised by his strength; given his age and stooped position, Evey had assumed he was far frailer than he really was. She guessed that the record player was certainly heavy, given the old brass horn and intricate woodwork.

The man set it on a table near the counter, and took out a rag to wipe off the dust. They stood there for a few moments, looking it over, before Evey broke the silence.

"Does it work?" She asked. Although she would have bought it regardless, as she had already succumbed to its historic charm, it was a good thing to know. And if it didn't work, Evey was certain that V would delight in taking it on as a project.

The old man shot her a proud smile, before he presented Evey with an old record.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Evey laughed, and took the record reverently from the old man's hand. She had seen enough old movies to know the basics of the record player, and the man next to her was filled with paternal patience. Finally, Evey was able to get it working, and the smooth sounds of big band began to fill the room.

Evey was beaming, and the old man had a smile to match. The stood together in companionable silence, enjoying the sounds of a time long gone. They listened to the entire first side of the record before Evey broke the silence.

"Do you have any more records?" Evey asked, hoping she didn't sound to terribly desperate.

If she had seemed overly enthusiastic, the man didn't show any indication that it had bothered him. He only gave her another fatherly smile before responding, "Dozens. They're all in the boxes over there. Why don't you pick out a few to go with the old girl? Complimentary. After all, what's a record player without a few records?" He offered.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly. They must be worth a fortune!" Evey objected. Although she was grateful for the man's generous offer, she certainly didn't want to rob him of his livelihood. And it didn't look like business was exactly booming.

But the man was insistent, "No no, please, I insist. It's the very least I could do for your indulging my bombastic story telling. Not many young ladies would sit down and listen to an old man like me ramble on. Besides, it's something my great-grandfather would have done. I have to live up to his reputation, don't I?" He winked.

Evey chuckled, "Nonsense. It was a wonderful story. And I'm sure that your great-grandfather would be very pleased to see how well you've taken care of the family business."

"I'd like to think he would be," The old man sighed happily. "Now then, why don't you find a few records you like while I get you ringed up at the front? I think I have a perfectly sized box in the back somewhere."

Evey watched as the old man shuffled off into the maze of old trinkets, and once he was out of sight, she laughed softly to herself before she began to search through the old milk crates. Many of the records were so old, that the covers had worn off, and she had no idea what they were. She did, however, find a few that she recalled her grandparents telling her about. There was an old Beatles album, along with an even older Frank Sinatra record. The most distinguishing feature on that record was the pair of crystalline blue eyes that Sinatra was named for, somehow looking fresh and new amidst the worn background. Evey also kept the big band record. Since it had been the first thing she had listened to, she doubted she would have been able to part with it. She was certain that it would fit in perfectly with the atmosphere in the Gallery, and she hoped that there would be many evenings spent dancing to it.

Evey was even more delighted when she found an old Christmas record. Now, V could have some Christmas music in the Gallery without the use of a CD player, which Evey knew he wasn't particularly thrilled with. She knew how he preferred all of the older relics, and thought that this would be the perfect gift for him.

"So tell me miss, is this for you or for your friend?" The old man called out, startling Evey for the second time that day. He laughed. "Honestly, I don't mean to keep making you jump. When you've lived alone for so long, you don't really have to worry about that."

Evey rose, with her newly found treasures wrapped in her arms. She glanced at the old man, who now had a large box in hand. "I suppose its half my fault; I've always been a bit jumpy."

The man nodded in understanding; "Who wouldn't be? These are dark times. Well, they _were_ dark times. It was scary, to say the very least. It makes sense that you would still be on guard."

"You seem to manage quite well," Evey observed.

"After a while, being a lonely old man has its benefits. You tend to be left alone," he replied. "Now, enough about all of that. The times are much better now, thanks to that V character."

Evey couldn't help the smile that immediately leapt onto her face at the mention of V. It always warmed her heart to hear others talk about him, as it made her promise to V a reality. These people would never forget V the man, or his ideas, and she was relieved to see that this feeling was taking root throughout London.

"Yes, he truly was an inspiration." Evey remarked, careful to keep her statements in the past tense.

"Were you a part of the protest?" The man asked from behind the counter, busy wrapping up Evey's purchase. "You certainly seem like the type to be there. I would have loved to go, but being old has its disadvantages. You know, that was something my son Marcus would have loved."

Evey hesitated before responding. This man hadn't recognized her as the Princess of the Revolution. And as proud as she was of her role in the revolution, she was somehow relishing this lack of attention. Every time she went out, someone always stopped her to wish her well or thank her. It was flattering, but it was also exhausting. It was nice to pretend she was just a normal girl, and had a normal life.

"I wasn't part of the protest at Parliament, but I _was_ out protesting that night." She said, only partially lying. Was lurking in the underbelly of London considered "protesting"?

The old man gave Evey a knowing smile, before turning and placing her wrapped purchase on the counter. He also took the records from Evey and tied them all together with a piece of twine, and fit them inside the box with actual record player. He rung her up on the equally old fashioned cash register, and Evey paid for her new acquisition.

"You never answered my question, although I suppose it's my fault for startling you." The man stated suddenly, after he handed Evey a receipt.

"It's going to be a gift for my friend, yes. He's a bit of a purist, you could say. He loves listening to old music on even older players." Evey laughed.

The man laughed with her, before remarking, "Yes, I really do think your friend and I would get along swimmingly. You'll have to bring him by sometime."

Not having the heart to tell the man that V certainly wouldn't be able to visit him in his shop, Evey could only smile and nod her head in agreement. Evey wished with all her heart that V could see this little gem, hidden away, and meet this kind old man. She agreed with him; they really would be fast friends.

"Do you need any help carrying this out to your car?" The older gentleman asked.

"No, thank you. I parked a few blocks away, and I really wouldn't want to trouble you." Evey said. She reached for the box, but the man had already snatched it off of the counter.

"Nonsense, it would be my pleasure. You lead the way." Evey opened her mouth to protest, but was cut short. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you carry this, or at least didn't escort you to your car? Come."

Evey laughed. This could be an older version of V! His love of antiques and gentlemanly behavior made their similarities uncanny.

The pair walked out into the frigid December weather, and Evey lead the way to where she had parked. It took them a while, as the old man walked much slower than Evey. She offered several times to take the heavy package from him, but he adamantly refused. Evey had to admit, she was quite impressed with his hidden strength.

Finally they reached her car, and Evey quickly opened the trunk and helped the old man carefully lower her purchase inside. Once they had situated it, and Evey had shut the trunk, she turned to the old man with a grateful smile.

"You didn't have to do that, but thank you, I really appreciate it."

"Of course, miss, it was nothing. You just have to promise me one thing in return for that favor." He replied with a wink.

Evey laughed, "What would that be?"

"You have to promise to stop by again. It's not very often I get to meet a kind young woman who likes antiques."

"That's a promise I can keep." Evey smiled.

"Wonderful! Now drive safely, young lady, and stay warm!" The old man instructed as he helped her into her car. "Oh, and one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Thank you, Miss Hammond. To you _and _your friend." And with a knowing smile and a wink, the old man began his trek back to the small antique shop, leaving a gaping Evey behind him.

Evey felt a mixture of confusion, shock, and amusement swirling around inside of her, and she certainly felt the shocked expression that was lighting up her face. The old man _had _recognized her, but had elected to keep that from her, which she thought was surprisingly sweet. But it was the last part of his statement that had truly shocked her. Did he know that she had been talking about V the entire time? And more importantly, did he know that he was _alive?_

Evey waited a few minutes in her car, thinking about the old man's statement. Perhaps he thought her friend was Finch? Or perhaps she was simply reading into it, and the "friend" he had thanked was not the same "friend" he thought he would get along so well with. After thinking about it for several more minutes, Evey concluded that even if he suspected that V was alive, there was no way he could ever know for sure. And even if he did, Evey doubted that he would say anything. With a final look towards the old shop, Evey started her car and made her way back to her flat.

* * *

For his own part, V was having the exact opposite problem that Evey was. He knew exactly what he was going to give her; in fact, he already had most of his gifts prepared already. However, it was his final gift that was giving him such trouble. He knew exactly what it was; it was the preparation that was causing him a fair amount of anxiety.

Was preparation the right word for it? The final gift did not require much in physical preparation, but mentally, it required a great deal. Most of V's day had been spent with this final gift, rather than the others he had already found for Evey.

The first thing V had gotten for Evey was a copy of Valerie's movie, "The Salt Flats". He knew how special this would be for her, and thought that she would appreciate it. The second gift was a coat that V had had tailored specially for Evey. It was through the same old gentleman from Morocco who had tailored his clothing, albeit under an assumed name and false address. V also added one of his shirts to the mix, partly in jest, as he knew how much Evey adored the one she already had. He was certain she would get a giggle out of this gift.

Those things had been easy to find, and he knew almost exactly how Evey would react upon receiving them. He wrapped them up in beautiful gold paper, adorned with violet ribbons and bows to match the ornaments on the tree. These gifts had not troubled him in the slightest, but the third and final gift would give him endless apprehension.

But he would not back away from it. He had made himself this promise, and more importantly, he had made Evey this promise. The gift would be given, this he would make sure of. After days of strenuous mental preparation, he could not fail. He _would_ not fail.

V sighed, and mentally recited the plan for the following day. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, when Evey would arrive in the Gallery to begin the festivities. For Christmas Eve dinner, they would have ham. It was a family tradition that Evey had told him about while decorating the tree, and they had both agreed that it would be a wonderful way to honor the past. After dinner, V would suggest they watch another Christmas movie, and after that, they would adjourn to bed. The following morning, V was certain that Evey would be up earlier than usual, due to her childlike excitement. And V will have prepared cinnamon rolls, another one of her traditions, but also her favorite "eggy-in-a-basket", to keep with the spirit of new traditions. They would then open presents, after which they would begin the preparations for Christmas dinner, which was to be prime rib. Once Evey had finished eating, then he would present her with the final gift.

V glanced at the clock; it was nearing midnight, and although he wasn't tired in the slightest, he knew that it would be best if he at least attempted to get some rest. He still had much to do.

* * *

Evey woke up early on Christmas Eve, already excited to begin her day. She had told V to expect her around six o'clock, but she still had some things she needed to pick up around town. Evey dressed quickly, ate a quick breakfast, and then made her way out the door.

Once again, it was a frigid day in London, and the cold air nipped at Evey's nose and cheeks. She had made sure to bundle up so as to beat the cold, but could still feel the cold seeping through to her bones. Evey walked swiftly to her car, and once she was inside, she quickly cranked up the heat.

It was only eight o'clock, giving Evey plenty of time to pick up everything she needed. It was already a busy morning, with people bustling about trying to get any last minute shopping for Christmas done. Many couples were sitting in small cafes, enjoying their morning together. Evey smiled, thinking about how she and her beloved would be together for the holiday as well.

After driving through downtown London, Evey happened onto another small shopping district, although this one was far more popular and modern than the one she had visited a few days ago. Evey parked her car, and continued to the storefronts on foot.

She meandered through several of the stores, and found a few things for Gordon, Philip, and Eric, which she would deliver before she went to see V that evening. She also purchased some wrapping paper and bows, after she had discovered that there was none to be found in her flat. After years of not celebrating Christmas, Evey had no need for any of that. She was glad to see that need change.

It was getting close to twelve o'clock, and Evey still hadn't found anything for V. She sighed. Why did he have to be so hard to shop for? Evey was getting hungry, and was admittedly in need of a nap before she went to see V, and was getting ready to give up and leave. She was about to turn around and head towards he car when she walked past a small little shop with a very interesting display in the window.

And that was when she saw it.

A mannequin stood with its blank, expressionless face, in front of an incredible table setting. It had a tray of fake food balanced precariously on its stiff arms, as though it were offering it to its nonexistent diners. But that wasn't what had caught Evey's eye.

The mannequin was wearing the most hilarious apron Evey had ever laid eyes on. The fabric was made up entirely of small Guy Fawkes masks, all at different angles. Evey was so delighted, she actually laughed out loud, which earned her a few bizarre looks from passersby. She immediately went inside to inquire about the apron.

She was welcomed into the shop by a burst of warm air, and a friendly young girl who smiled behind the counter.

"Hello, welcome to Allie's Kitchen. Are you looking for anything in particular?" The young girl asked, stepping around the counter to better assist Evey. She spoke with a thick Irish accent, which immediately intrigued Evey.

Evey took in the beaming youth. She was around Evey's height, but had fiery red hair and a face splashed with freckles. Her slight frame seemed to be humming with energy, and friendliness oozed out of every pore.

"Actually, I saw that apron in the window, and I was wondering if you had any for sale." Evey asked politely.

"Oh, you mean the V aprons? Certainly! I'm surprised they aren't more popular. We haven't sold very many." The young woman explained as she led Evey to where the aprons were kept.

Evey was about to explain that it was because the pattern was especially tacky, but she kept her mouth shut. She was the one buying the apron, wasn't she? And at any rate, the young girl seemed quite proud of the aprons, and Evey didn't want to upset her.

"What a shame, it really is a charming apron." Evey allowed, hoping she sounded sincere.

Apparently, she succeeded. The young girl nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

"Is this everything for you, ma'am? Feel free to take a look around, we're having a sale."

"I think that's everything, thank you." Evey responded. The girl nodded again, and led Evey back up towards the counter. While the girl began to ring up the apron, Evey did take a quick peek around the shop. It was a store dedicated entirely to cooking, as its name implied, and everything one would need to cook could be seen around the small shop. Pots and pans hung from pegs on the walls, along with several different demo table sets, like the one in the window. Evey tried to think if V needed anything in the kitchen, but highly doubted that he wouldn't have a perfectly stocked kitchen.

The quiet, Irish voice called Evey back to attention at the counter, and she quickly paid the girl and left. She caught herself yawning as she was leaving the small store, and decided that it would be best to go home, wrap up these few gifts, and then take a small nap before she got ready to head to the Shadow Gallery.

As she walked down the street in the frigid December air, Evey felt a smile creeping onto her face. It was the first time in years that she had felt any semblance of Christmas spirit, but now, she was filled to the brim with it. And it was all thanks to the man whose mask adorned her newly purchased apron.

* * *

With a final glance in the mirror, Evey flashed herself a bright smile before turning to put on her coat. She was wearing a deep, red scoop-neck sweater, and had her hair twisted into a knot at the back of her head. As usual, she was wearing no makeup, but was glowing with happiness nonetheless.

It was nearing 5:30, and Evey was in a hurry to get out the door and make her way underground. She made sure to bundle up, as the last time she looked out the window, there were some fat, fluffy flakes falling to the ground.

Once she was thoroughly covered up, Evey scooped the gifts into her arms and balanced them carefully in her arms. It took her a moment to maneuver her way out the door, but once she did, she strode quickly out into the cold evening air. She was careful to walk slowly once she stepped outside, as the sidewalks were already slick with the newly fallen snow. Evey laughed softly to herself as she imagined explaining to V that she was late because she slipped and fell.

Due to the weather, Evey decided that it would be best to take the nearest tube station. It was a challenge to make her way through the streets without attracting attention to herself, thanks to the packages she was carrying, but it was made easier by the snow that was beginning to pick up and many people were inside.

As she walked, Evey idly began to hum, "White Christmas". Evey realized after a moment that she couldn't remember the last time she had experienced a white Christmas. It was interesting, she thought, that she should have one this year, her first Christmas with V.

It didn't take Evey long to reach the tube station, and once inside the underground, she suddenly felt much safer. It was still bitterly cold, but now the wind could not reach her, which was a welcome change for Evey. She brushed off some of the snow that had accumulated on her coat, and she was glad she had had the forethought to put all of the gifts into a cardboard box to prevent them from getting wet. Her boots were still wet, which would have made it impossible to walk on the actual rail of the tracks, as she usually did, so she opted for the safer route by walking straight down the middle of the tracks.

Evey was nearly to the secret entrance of the Gallery when she suddenly heard a pair of footsteps behind her. She froze, and her first thought flashed to a rebel assassin. However, she was put at ease when V's rich voice spoke from behind her.

"I would have been more than happy to meet you at the station in order to assist you, Evey."

Evey turned and let out the breath she had been holding. Turning around, she saw V, dressed in his full uniform of cape and hat, standing with his hands clasped innocently before him. She glared at V for a moment for startling her, but softened soon after.

"I can manage quite well on my own, thank you." Evey replied, with a hint of facetious indignation.

"Of course my dear, but I hate to make you carry it just the same." V reached for the package then, and rather than put up a fight, Evey relinquished it to him. She laughed inwardly as she was reminded of how the old man at the antique shop did the exact same thing.

V was quite shocked at the weight of the package, although it was no burden to him. "You carried this all the way from your flat, Evey?"

"I'm stronger than I look, you know!" Evey smirked.

V laughed out right, "One would think I would have learned that by now."

They turned then and made their way down the last length of tunnels and into the Shadow Gallery. Evey held the door open for V while he maneuvered his way inside with the box. He set it down carefully on the side table in the foyer, and then turned to help Evey out of her coat. He then removed his own cloak and hat, and hung them both next to Evey's.

Once V finished hanging up both of the garments, he turned and was immediately wrapped in a tight embrace. It shocked him slightly, but he welcomed it readily.

"I'm so glad to be down here with you," Evey admitted softly, whispering into V's chest.

V stroked her hair, and returned the sentiment.

When they finally broke apart, V asked, "Are you hungry, Evey? I have dinner prepared if you would like to eat now."

Evey nodded enthusiastically, and they made their way to the kitchen. Evey saw that V already had a beautiful place setting ready for her, while the table was adorned with a set of red and green candles. But as usual, there was only one place setting. Evey frowned inwardly at this, but she knew that it would take V a very long time before he would allow himself to eat in front of her, if he managed to at all. She had the strong belief that he would one day be able to, but for now, she would not push.

She helped him set out the few dishes he had prepared. After they had set everything on the small kitchen table, V pulled out a chair for Evey. It was a delicate dance that they had both become accustomed to; V would pull out the chair, and Evey would sit down carefully and give V a grateful smile, to which V would respond with a small bow of his head. These rituals were small things that Evey had come to cherish.

Evey ate slowly, enjoying her shared conversation with V. She told more stories about Christmas from when she was younger, and specifically about the escapades she and her brother would get into trying to sneak a peek at Santa Claus. Each story usually ended with a whole hearted laugh from V, who was picturing a smaller Evey Hammond crawling around on hands and knees, hiding behind her couch.

V often felt conflicted when it came to his lack of memories. Moments like these, with Evey telling him about her childhood, he wished more than anything that he could have remembered what his own was like, so that he could offer the same stories to Evey. But V knew that he was a completely different person now, and that his old memories would only cause him distress. Before he met Evey, he would have reasoned that since he had become an idea, ideas didn't need memories. But lots of things had changed since he met Evey.

Evey finished eating, and helped V tidy up the kitchen, although there wasn't much to do. After they had finished, V recognized the familiar mischievous glint in Evey's eyes, and he was immediately curious as to what she had up her sleeve. When she took his hand, V gave her a hidden look of playful wariness, but allowed himself to be dragged from the kitchen.

The intended destination was apparently the Wurlitzer, although V had already been half expecting that. He stood waiting behind her, with a hand alighted patiently on Evey's hip so that he could properly pull her into a dance once she had selected a song.

Finally, Evey found a song that she liked, and turned to face V, who immediately reached for her hand to draw her into a proper embrace. Evey fell into place instinctively as well, her hand placed delicately on V's shoulder, while the other held his black clad hand. They began to sway to the music, perfectly at ease and in sync. The steps came fluidly, as these had become practiced, comfortable movements.

"Tell me Evey; was this another part of your Christmas Eve tradition?" V asked.

Evey let out a soft chuckle before responding, "No. But it certainly is now."

"And it is a tradition I will undoubtedly look forward to," V agreed.

After the song ended, Evey broke away from the more formal dance posture and rested her head on V's chest, and wrapping her arms around his torso. She let out a contented sigh, and closed her eyes, relaxing as she and V continued to slowly twist and turn. They stayed this way until the end of the song, before Evey let out a yawn.

"Don't say anything, V. I know _exactly_ what you're thinking." Evey began, trying to cut off any suggestion of heading off to bed.

"Do you, my dear?" V asked, quite mysteriously.

This did seem to perk Evey up, and she looked up at V with a raised brow. "And what _are_ you thinking, V?"

"I was merely going to suggest that you retire soon. I would hate for Saint Nick to pass by the Shadow Gallery because a certain Ms. Hammond was not asleep." V teased.

Evey let out a lighthearted groan before responding, "I did know what you were thinking. You just worded it to be more festive."

Evey propped her chin on V's muscular torso, and looked up at the mask. V had tilted his head down to meet her gaze, which was now a playful scowl. V could see the wheels turning in Evey's head, and he waited eagerly for her response. She had just opened her mouth to fire off another retort, when suddenly, a look of confusion played across her delicate features. She leaned back slightly, and tiled her head to the side, in order to look around V's head.

V knew exactly what she had seen, and watched in amusement as her face went from confusion, to having a knowing smile plastered onto it. She moved her hands tantalizingly slow up V's chest to wrap around his neck, before speaking.

"Now V, that wouldn't happen to be mistletoe, would it?" Evey purred.

V took a look above them, where there was in fact mistletoe hanging. V decided to play along with Evey's coy manner:

"Is it? I hadn't noticed, love." He joked, feigning surprise.

Evey let out a soft trill of laughter, which always sent V's heart racing. Then, she rose up on her tip toes to present the mask with a kiss. As usual, the initial contact sent a jolt through V's entire being. It was electrifying, just as it was paralyzing. V savored every second of it.

Once Evey had broken away, with a victorious smirk on her face, she returned to resting her head on V's chest. They continued to sway to the next song that began to play, although they were horribly off tempo. And they fell into the familiar rhythm, V couldn't help but laugh.

Evey gave him a curious look, "What's so funny, V?"

V shook his head. Truth be told, he was laughing because the entire situation was so delightfully ironic, but he wouldn't tell Evey that.

* * *

True to form, Evey awoke earlier than usual the next morning, eager to begin the Christmas festivities. She could hear the sounds of V happily cooking away in the kitchen, while the smells of cinnamon and eggs reached her nose.

She rose slowly, stretching and yawning as she went. After their dance the previous night, Evey had finally relented, and went to sleep. It had become routine for V to stay with her, which she regretted only because she couldn't use that as leverage. As usual, she had had a wonderful night's sleep curled into V's warmth, with his arms wrapped around her.

Evey finally padded her way down the hallway, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. When she emerged in the kitchen, she saw V hard at work frosting the cinnamon rolls, which appeared to be fresh out of the oven. Although Evey knew that V was already aware of her presence, she walked silently behind him, and wrapped her arms gently around V's waist. She smiled victoriously when she noticed that V didn't flinch in the slightest, but rather almost melted into her embrace.

"Good morning," Evey said happily.

"That it is, my dear. How did you sleep?" V asked, a warm smile having appeared on his face at Evey's delightful greeting.

Evey snorted, "Wonderfully, as usual. Do you need help with anything?"

V considered this for a moment, before responding, "You may finish frosting the cinnamon rolls if you wish. That way, I can begin preparing the other half of breakfast."

Evey released her hold on V's waist, and V turned to allow her to take his place. But before he could get very far, Evey gave him a quick peck on his enamel cheek.

"Oh, and Merry Christmas V," She smirked. All V could do was laugh before leaving Evey to the pastries.

The Christmas CD V had bought was playing, and Evey and V were both humming along as they worked. In addition to the sounds of the music twirling through the Gallery, there were the happy sounds of eggs sizzling, pans clanging, and Evey and V sharing some lighthearted conversation. Both Evey and V were completely content.

With a final swirl of her knife, Evey completed her icing project, and carefully moved the cinnamon rolls to a decorative plate V had sitting next to the stove. She glanced at it briefly; she didn't recognize it, but figured that V had gone all out, as he usually did. If nothing else, he was thorough.

V finished right behind Evey by carefully sliding Evey's "eggy in a basket" onto yet another festive plate. He set it down with a flourish, and as usual, graciously pulled out Evey's chair, inciting their usual ritual. V sat across from Evey, with of course no place setting of his own, and crossed his hands expectantly before him. Evey rolled her eyes, knowing that he was waiting for her approval of the meal, which she knew wouldn't be anything less than spectacular. Still, she humored him, and took a bite while chewing thoughtfully.

"As usual, V, it's delightful." She complimented.

"Wonderful, Evey. But perhaps you would be so kind as to tell me how you like the cinnamon rolls. I haven't made them in quite some time." V suggested, curious to see if they held up to his beloveds standards.

Evey took one of the cinnamon rolls she had frosted, and then took a few seconds to examine it. She glanced up at V with a smirk:

"Whoever iced these did a marvelous job, they look incredible." Evey quipped.

Behind the mask, V rolled his eyes before replying, "Yes, my sous chef does all of the icing work. I'll have to send her your compliments."

"Be sure that you do, I would hate to see such wonderful work go unrecognized!" Evey winked before finally taking a bite. As she had expected, they were divine.

"What do you think, Evey?" V asked, as soon as he saw Evey had swallowed her bite.

"I would kill to have your gift with cooking, V. They were delicious." Evey praised, being completely truthful.

V chuckled, "Oh my dear, I certainly hope you wouldn't. And I am always happy to cook for you, Evey."

"And I'm always happy to frost cinnamon rolls for you." Evey laughed.

Evey ate quickly, while she and V continued to idly chat about the cinnamon rolls and the day they had planned. Finally, when Evey was finished, she took her plate into the kitchen and helped V clean up the small mess they had made while cooking. It took them hardly any time at all, and once they had finished, Evey excitedly lead V out into the main room of the gallery, towards the Christmas tree.

She instructed V to sit on the chaise, while she selected the present she wanted him to open first. Once she had found her desired package, which had been wrapped in red and green stripes, she plopped down next to V and handed it to him with a radiating smile.

V had to hold back a laugh at how excited Evey was, although he could hardly blame her. It was the first Christmas she had actually celebrated in years, and she certainly had every right to be celebrating now. He would also admit that it was positively heartwarming it was to see Evey in such a bright mood.

"According to your old tradition, shouldn't you have a gift as well?" V asked rhetorically. After Evey had handed him the gift, and he had a good idea of what it actually was, V rose and found a gift he thought might compliment his.

Finally, the pair was situated on the chaise once more, each with a gift in hand. V watched with a bemused smirk; Evey could hardly contain her giggles.

"Evey, I trust that nothing is going to leap out of this package?" V asked.

"Of course not!" Evey cried, rather indignantly.

V chuckled and shook his head, "Then what, pray tell, has you in such a state?"

"Oh, just open it and you'll see!" Evey rolled her eyes. Then at the same time, they each unwrapped the first Christmas gift of their first Christmas together.

When V initially saw the gaudy fabric that was grinning up at him, he wasn't sure what he was seeing exactly. It wasn't until he unfurled the fabric that the true nature of the gift was revealed, and V let out a surprised laugh. It was an apron, and one that only V would be able to appreciate fully. He knew of Evey's feelings towards his collection, and they had several running jokes that went along with it, which made receiving this from her all the more delightful. Yes, this would make a wonderful addition to the collection, and he would be certain that he wore it around Evey quite often.

Evey too had to laugh at her first gift, which she was thrilled to see was one of V's own shirts. Unlike the one she had taken over a year ago, this one was not pure black, but rather a charcoal gray. Evey glanced down, looking at the shirt she had worn almost every night since the last Fifth of November. It was obviously well loved, and she examined it with a fond smile.

"Thank you, V. Now I'll have a little bit of variety." Evey beamed. "I hope you like it, what with your strange penchant for tacky aprons."

V chuckled, "It will be quite the marvelous addition to the collection. I shall be using it today to prepare our evening meal."

After they cleared away the discarded wrapping paper, Evey found the largest of her gifts for V and carefully set it where she had been sitting on the chaise lounge with a very proud look on her face.

"I really hope you enjoy this one, V. And there's a story to go with it."

"Oh I'm quite sure I will enjoy it, Evey, almost as much as I'm sure I will enjoy the story that goes along with it." V rose then, and retrieved his next gift for Evey. As her spot had been claimed by the large box, Evey contented herself with sitting on the floor near the base of the tree, as she did when she was a child.

Once again, they synchronized their unwrapping, but Evey was the first to react, as V's gift required extra effort to extract.

Evey gasped in delight when she revealed a gorgeous black pea coat. The fact that it was black was of course significant to them both, but when Evey opened it, she saw even greater meaning on the inside of the coat. It was vibrant, blood red silk that was lining the jacket, a stark contrast to the inky black that surrounded it. Evey turned to thank V, but saw that he was currently entranced with his gift as well.

V was of course intrigued by the size of the package, and by how much it weighed, but was more so intrigued when Evey said that there was a story to go along with it. And when he had finally unwrapped it, and pulled the gift out of the box, did he understand why Evey had been so very pleased with herself.

It was an old record player; a gramophone, to be more precise. It was very old, obviously, but for its age was in shockingly good condition. He saw a few things that could perhaps be repaired, but he was shocked with its initial quality and beauty. The bell was in need of polishing, as was the wood. He wasn't sure if it would work, but he couldn't wait to find out.

As Evey knew, V was in fact a bit of a purist when it came to music, and was extraordinarily old fashioned. It was just one of his many quirks, but seemed to be one of the most prevalent ones. Ever since V had stolen the Wurlitzer out of Sutler's vaults, he had always wanted a record player to play other records that weren't on his wonderful jukebox. He had in fact seen one in the vaults, but he had had his hands full with the rather large Wurlitzer while trying to avoid capture. It was a spectacular gift, and now V was very intrigued to hear the story that went along with it.

"Do you like it?" Evey asked, hoping that V's silence was a good sign that he was pleased.

V had to laugh. Did she even have to ask? "Evey, I cannot thank you enough for this. It is truly wonderful, and I positively adore it. Where on earth did you find such a treasure?"

"I was actually doing some shopping a few days ago, and I somehow stumbled into a small shopping district. It was very quaint, and full of some old, obscure shops that had clearly seen better days. It was a wonderful little square though; you would love it, I'm sure."

"Go on," V pressed eagerly.

"I was walking down the street, when I passed by an old antique shop and this caught my eye. It was sitting in the window on display, and I just knew that it was perfect. While I was looking at it, the owner of the shop approached me, and invited me inside for a cup of tea. He was the nicest old gentleman, and we struck up a wonderful conversation. Apparently, his great-grandfather purchased the store front from a family of immigrants, and it became an antique shop on accident.

It was shut down under Sutler, but his father managed to keep the shop going in secret, until it was raided. Even after the raid and his father's death, he managed to keep it running. It's such a wonderful little shop, I thought of you when I saw it. And you and the owner would get along quite well, I should think." Evey concluded.

"A man after my own heart," V agreed. "What an interesting story, Evey. And I'm certain that in another life, he and I would get along."

V rose with the gramophone then, searching for a good place to put it. Next to the Wurlitzer, there was a small side table that had a potted plant on it, which V thought would be a wonderful place to set it. It was fitting after all, to have all of the music players together.

"Evey, would you mind moving that plant elsewhere?" V requested. Evey scrambled to her feet, not wanting V to have to hold the heavy player for longer than necessary. She scooped the plant into her arms, and deposited it on the kitchen table. Once she returned to where V was standing, they admired the new record player in its new home.

"It really is quite handsome sitting there, don't you think?" Evey grinned.

V tenderly wrapped an arm around Evey and nodded in agreement. "It will serve as a perfect companion to the loyal Wurlitzer, I trust."

They returned to the chaise, and Evey eagerly tried on her new coat. She was instantly surprised at how well it fit her; she wondered if V had had it tailored, so she asked him as much.

V responded, shrugging casually, "The man I usually send to does such a good job, I simply could not resist. What do you think?"

Evey completed a small twirl, and then smiled warmly at V. "I love it, it's gorgeous! And your tailor did a wonderful job. Although I will admit I am quite curious as to how you've managed to have a tailor, and avoid detection." She raised her eyebrow questioningly.

"A fake I.D. and a fake address work wonders when you're ordering from a man outside the country," V added, "It also helps that he is a very elderly gentleman in Morocco, who has no mind for English politics."

Evey laughed, "Why am I not surprised you've had this figured out?"

Evey shrugged the coat off then, as it was already quite comfortable in the Gallery. After taking it off, she strode over to the coat rack, where she carefully hung up her new gift next to V's cloak and hat. With a satisfied smile, she returned to the Christmas tree, where she had one more package waiting for V. V also handed Evey her final gift, and they sat down to open them together.

V delayed the opening of his gift to watch Evey's reaction closely; he knew that she would enjoy the gift, but was certain that it would bring up some of her more painful memories.

When Evey tore off the paper and revealed the title of the movie, a small gasp escaped her lips. After she had left V, she had tried to find a copy of the "Salt Flats", but to no avail. To see it now, after such a long time had passed, was shocking to say the very least. She was instantly flooded with the memory of finding Valerie's letter, and reaching for it after every torture session had ended. The vivid memories inundated her mind, and Evey was suddenly short of breath.

When V laid a reassuring hand on Evey's shoulder, Evey jumped slightly at being brought back to reality. When she looked at V, something deep inside of her was reminding her that this man before her was the man who had inflicted that torture on her, and that she should get away. But that small voice was instantly crushed by a strong, confident one that reminded Evey why V had done everything, and how she had benefited from it.

"Are you alright, Evey?" V whispered softly. He moved his hand from her shoulder to gently stroke her cheek, something he knew she found comforting.

Evey took a deep breath before nodding, "I'm fine. I just…wasn't prepared for all of those memories to come back like that. I'm fine." She repeated again, before giving V a small smile.

"I knew that this would carry a special…sentimental value to you, Evey, and that it was sure to bring old memories to surface. I do hope you aren't upset."

"No, I'm fine, really. And I love it; truly, I do. It means a lot to me. I was never able to find a copy of this after I left, and I always felt like I needed to watch it. So thank you, V. Really." Evey then slid over closer to V to wrap her arms around him, and feel him return the embrace.

Once Evey finally unwound her arms from V's neck, she gave him a playful pout to try and lighten the mood.

"V, you broke the rules. You were supposed to open yours at the same time!" Evey chided, although she was hardly serious.

"My apologies, Evey." V bowed his head. Then, he began dramatically unwrapping his final gift. V made sure to accentuate every single tear of wrapping paper, and he pointedly tossed it to the floor, to be collected later. His entire display was quite amusing, and he was pleased to see that it brought Evey a few giggles and a large smile.

When he finally unwrapped the package, it was V's turn to light up with a large smile. V carefully examined each of the four records that Evey had purchased, quite impressed with Evey's selections. He did have some Beatles and Frank Sinatra on the Wurlitzer, but not many; and none of those songs were found on the records Evey had found. He was particularly interested in the big band record Evey had found. V had always enjoyed jazz and swing music, and was terribly excited to hear this specific record.

Evey saw V's immediate interest in the big band record, and smiled, "That was the first record the owner played for me on the player. I couldn't bear to leave it behind, it was so wonderful. I thought you would like it."

"I am sure that I will, love. Thank you."

V then turned his attention to the final record, and noticed the festive album cover. A very old, stylized Santa Claus was laughing merrily in front of a Christmas tree, and a plate of cookies could be seen on a small table. The title of the record had regrettably rubbed off, but the rest of the cover seemed to be in fair condition.

"Even a Christmas record? How wonderful!" V laughed.

"I didn't have a chance to listen to it, so I have no idea how good it is." Evey admitted.

V shook his head, "No matter, we'll just put it in now and find out! Now I can finally get rid of that cursed CD player…"

Evey chuckled softly to herself as she watched V rise with his records, and stride over to the gramophone. Evey couldn't recall the last time she had ever seen V so giddy; in fact, she wasn't sure she had ever seen him act so gleeful and childlike. With the utmost care, V carefully extracted the Christmas album and gently set it down, followed by the needle. When the music finally began to play, Evey and V were greeted with the gritty sounds of "Silver Bells".

"What a charming record!" V exclaimed, letting out a surprised laugh. Evey rose then, and placed herself by V's side. She wrapped her arms around him, and he returned the embrace.

"I'm glad you like it."

"It is truly wonderful, Evey. I adore it."

V brushed aside a strand of Evey's curly hair, and looked down into her arresting hazel eyes. They always disarmed him, and took the words straight from his mouth, and the breath straight from his lungs. But V had one more thing to say, and he wouldn't allow Evey's stunning eyes to stop him. He took a deep breath, and with as much charm as he could muster, said:

"Evey, I have one more gift. But it has to wait."

Evey was immediately intrigued, but also slightly wary. The last time V had given her a mysterious gift, it resulted in her blowing up a building.

"Oh?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It has to wait until after dinner, and then it will be revealed."

Evey narrowed her eyes, "It isn't anything involving explosives, is it?"

V laughed aloud then, a deep, rich laugh that took both him and Evey by surprise. "Oh my dear, you'll just have to wait and find out!"

* * *

With a yawn, V turned to glance at the young woman curled into a ball next to him. Evey was fast asleep, and was resting quite comfortably in the crook of V's arm. Her breathing was slow and even, and it still never ceased to amaze V how relaxed Evey could become while in his arms. It was completely instinctual, and in this case, subconscious.

The credits were now rolling for "Frosty the Snowman". Previously, after preparing the prime rib and other side dishes, the couple had popped in the "Salt Flats", which Evey had instantly fallen in love with. After that, with Evey growing drowsy, V decided to put in a shorter Christmas film to try and get her to rest. Apparently, Frosty did the trick, and Evey had fallen asleep quite quickly.

Sadly, as much as V loved sitting with Evey wrapped contentedly in his side, he did actually have things to attend to in the kitchen. So as carefully as he could possibly manage, V cradled Evey's limp body while he rose, and laid her softly onto the chaise. Before he made his way into the kitchen, V made sure to drape a blanket around Evey to replace his warmth while he was gone.

With Evey looking comfortable, V walked into the kitchen to check the status of Christmas dinner. The rich smell of the prime rib reached V even behind the mask. Selecting a thermometer from a drawer, V quickly checked the internal temperature of the roast, and determined that it would probably require another hour in the oven before it would be ready. In the meantime, V pulled out the dishes Evey helped him prepare earlier, so that they could be put into the oven as well.

While he worked, V would occasionally peek out into the living room to check on Evey. At one point, she had rolled over precariously close to the edge, and V had to scoot her gently back without waking her. She also had a propensity for kicking off the blanket, and then began shivering only minutes later. V wasn't sure why, but she was only this difficult when she took naps.

V checked the clock, and then set a timer for the oven. Once he had taken care of that, V pulled out the ingredients for a salad, which he began tossing together. The Christmas record was playing cheerfully in the background, and V began to hum along as he worked.

While he diced the vegetables for the salad, V's mind began to wander towards his plan for later in the evening. V had been thinking about it all day, and it was a miracle he hadn't completely lost his mind. Thankfully, spending the day with Evey, especially while she was so gleeful with the holiday, had somewhat calmed his thoughts.

V often considered why he was so self-loathing, especially considering current circumstances. He knew that Evey cared about him, but there was always that nagging voice at the back of his mind that would try and convince him otherwise. Everything that Evey did proved that voice wrong, but why couldn't he ever truly silence it? Even now, that voice was not gone; it was simply laying dormant, waiting for the right moment to try and strike V down.

He had had this voice ever since escaping from Larkhill; he knew that any half-decent psychologist would tell him that this traumatic event is what created this dark voice and self-hatred, although he already knew this. Hiding underground and having no human interaction, save for murdering his enemies, had not helped his problem in the slightest.

But now, V should have been able to move past this. Evey had come into his life, and although at first it had greatly increased the voice's power over him, it was slowly beginning to quiet thanks to her consistent work. She was always caring and understanding, which V was infinitely grateful for. His only wish was that he could be everything that he knew she deserved. Even after she had told him to stop worrying about that, he couldn't help it.

While V continued to think on this, he had lost track of time, and was suddenly interrupted by the sound of Evey yawning and walking into the kitchen. He turned to look at her bedraggled state, and gave her a hidden smile as he watched her stretch and rub sleep out of her eyes. Her curly hair was still a mess, and she ran her fingers through it slowly, trying to loosen the knots. When she finally dropped her arms and finished her final yawn, Evey looked at V and flashed him a soft smile.

"It sure smells good in here," Evey observed. When she stood next to V, she was pleased to notice him wearing his new apron. Evey did think it was quite bizarre to see all of the miniature Guy Fawkes' along with the mask.

"I will be taking it out momentarily," V said, glancing at the clock to confirm this. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine, although I don't really remember falling asleep. Was it during the Christmas movie?" Evey queried.

V nodded, "Yes, it was. Am I to assume that you found Frosty's antics to be less than exciting?"

Evey chuckled. "I suppose the excitement from Christmas finally caught up with me."

Suddenly, the timer began to buzz, and V moved quickly to turn it off and check to see if the meat was done. After reading the internal temperature, and deeming it adequate, V slid on a pair of vibrant oven mitts to take out the prime rib along with all of the side dishes. Meanwhile, Evey searched for some serving spoons for all of the dishes, and also brought out the cutting board for V.

Once that was taken care of, Evey wasn't sure what else she could do to help, so she decided to use this moment to offer V a chance to eat something quickly, and also tidy herself up a bit after her nap.

"I'm going to go freshen up, V. I'll only be a moment." Evey said, giving V's forearm a gentle squeeze.

"Of course, love. Take all the time you need."

While Evey was in the bathroom, V removed the oven mitts, which were equally as hideous as most of his aprons. With tender care, V selected his carving knife and gracefully ran it across the sharpener several times before cutting into the roast.

After V had cut up the roast, he arranged a few of the pieces on a plate and placed it on the table, along with all of the other dishes he had prepared. By now, Evey had emerged from the bathroom. The tired look had been washed away, and her hair had been brushed so that it was sleek and shiny.

Evey took in the spread, and gasped softly. "V this looks delicious!"

"I certainly hope it tastes as good as it looks, my dear."

"I'm sure it will, V." Evey smiled.

As usual, V pulled out Evey's chair and assisted the lady while she sat down, as any true gentleman would. When V sat down, Evey served herself and began to eat. V watched carefully as usual, waiting for her reaction. Like usual, Evey gave a rave review, which greatly satisfied him. They talked more about the old antique shop, and about all the work Evey hoped to accomplish in the coming days when she returned to the office. Then, Evey's curiosity simply could not handle the wait any longer.

"V can I at least have a hint about your final gift? It drives me crazy when you're so mysterious!" She exclaimed.

"No." V replied simply.

Evey pursed her lips, "Why not?"

"Evey if I told you, there would be no element of surprise." V explained, as thought talking to a small child.

"I'm not asking you to _tell_ me, I'm asking for a hint!"

V chuckled at Evey's attempt to argue the matter, "My dear, the argument still stands."

Evey rolled her eyes, "It's still driving me insane, I'll have you know."

"Perhaps that was the point, Evey."

* * *

Evey finished quickly, eager to have the surprise finally revealed. She helped V clear away the mess and put everything away. V laughed internally as he saw how excited Evey was, and how terrible she was at trying to play it off. Finally, with the kitchen deemed clean enough, V approached Evey.

"Evey, close your eyes." He instructed.

Evey gave him an exasperated sigh, "Now I really _do_ think it involves explosives."

"Please, Evey?"

Evey rolled her eyes, but was considerate of the pleading and almost nervous tone in V's voice. She closed her eyes, and then felt V take her hand. V led her out of the kitchen, and she stumbled after him, trying not to trip. V paused momentarily.

"Evey, do you think I would allow you to trip?" He asked. "Trust me."

He continued walking then, and Evey walked a little steadier alongside him. It was a short walk, and Evey guessed that they were in the main room of the Gallery. She was proved correct when V left her for just a moment to select a song on the Wurlitzer. Evey felt blindly for his hand, and was surprised but instantly satisfied when she met his real skin.

V led her into a dance, which Evey found incredibly difficult with her eyes closed. However, she kept her mouth shut, feeling that V had something very important he wanted to say.

"Evey, ever since the night we met, I knew that you would change my life. I had no idea to what extent, or to what degree you would change it, but I knew that you would do it. And I was right. When you came into my life, albeit quite grudgingly, everything I knew changed.

As I told you on the night of the Fifth, I fell in love with you, Evey. And for the past 20 years of my life, I had no idea that even had the ability to do so. I had been locked into a vicious cycle of hatred for the world, and for myself. But you broke me out of that cycle, and challenged everything I knew. Revenge was my life, and for the first time, I felt like it could have been something more. But I didn't want to believe it.

When I was given a second lease on life, I was unsure as to why. I know why now. It was so that you could be in my life, and show me how to live past revenge. You helped me become so much more than an idea, Evey. You helped me remember that once, there was a man beneath this mask. But perhaps more importantly, you reminded me that perhaps, there still is one."

V took a steadying breath then, and halted their dance. They stayed frozen together for several minutes, while V gathered his words and his strength before continuing.

"I love you Evey, more than you could know. You have helped me conquer so many demons, and there is one more that needs to be dealt the final blow." V released Evey then, and took a half step back.

Evey stood stock still, a very faint smile turning up the corners of her lips. A single tear streaked down her cheek from the pure emotion of V's soliloquy. But now, she was slightly concerned at how V had stepped back. Was something wrong?

Evey listened again as V took another step back. And then, she heard something she never dreamed she would hear. It was a loud thunk, which sounded suspiciously like enamel on wood.

V had just taken off his mask.

This was the gift. V had willingly unmasked himself for Evey. As elated as Evey was, Evey did feel a pang of guilt. Was this because he felt guilty, or obligated? Evey thought back to their conversation, when V felt that he wasn't what she deserved.

"V…" She began softly, reaching out a hand to find his in the darkness.

"Evey, it's alright." V responded. However, Evey heard the tightness in his voice. When V finally took her hand, she gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"Evey, you have given me so much, and it is only fair that I give you something in return."

That was the cue, and Evey slowly roamed her hands up V's chest towards his face. She could feel V's breath constricted in his chest, and she moved slowly to try and put him at ease, although her heart was pounding just as fast as his was.

Finally, her fingers met V's cheek, and the flinch that followed was so powerful, V almost recoiled entirely. But Evey was persistent, and soon V released the breath he had been holding. That in and of itself was an incredible sensation; feeling V's breath dance across her fingers. She had never before felt that, as the mask constricted it.

Before she knew it, Evey's hands were wandering softly over V's features. The skin wasn't nearly as tough and bumpy as on his hands, but there were certainly ridges to be found. V had left the wig on, which Evey didn't mind, but she wasn't able to feel his entire head. But what she could feel was incredible. The texture was so intriguing; Evey couldn't help but trace each ridge she came across, and try to memorize his face simply by touch.

Then she felt his lips. His breath came out softly, tickling her skin once again, and Evey smiled when she felt that sensation. Her index finger traced his bottom lip with a feather-light touch, although there really wasn't much of a lip left.

The feeling of Evey's soft, delicate hands on his mottled face had initially sent V into a panic, but now, it was an incredible feeling. Each touch send jolts of pure electricity through his entire being, and kept him paralyzed with both fear and excitement. He was incredibly relieved to see that Evey had not recoiled with revulsion, as the voice had told him she would. Each caress dealt a fierce blow to that wicked demon in the back of his mind.

When Evey had gently touched what remained of his lips, V was almost overpowered with the desire to kiss her. He resisted, not wanting to frighten Evey, when he knew she must be dreadfully nervous. However, V was suddenly quite self conscious about his lips, or lack thereof, as what was left was horribly scarred and tough.

Apparently, this didn't matter to Evey.

Before any sense of reasoning could be found inside of her, Evey bowed down to her most powerful of impulses, and slowly raised up on her tip toes as she had done countless times. It was a practiced motion; familiar. But now, it was different. It would not be the mask she was presenting a kiss to; it would not be the idea. For the first time, it would be the man.

When their lips met, both Evey and V were tender and unsure. V had felt Evey shift, and had anticipated her move, and although he was horrifically nervous, he allowed it. He had told himself not to kiss her; he had never said anything about Evey kissing him.

Although the initial kiss was cautious and soft, the spark that went through them both was undeniable. For V, it felt like Evey's usual kisses on the mask, but magnified ten-fold. After a few seconds, the pair both seemed to grow more confident, and V wrapped Evey tighter in his arms, while Evey pulled V closer to kiss him properly.

The kiss lasted only precious seconds, but it was filled with passion and unsaid words. Both Evey and V could feel the love and devotion pouring out of the other, and when they broke apart, both had tentative but genuine smiles on their faces.

With her eyes still closed, Evey continued to caress and explore V's scarred visage. Occasionally, she would feather his face with soft, tender kisses, all the while whispering how much she loved him.

Finally, she gave his lips one final peck, before wrapping her arms tightly around his torso and burying her face in his chest.

"Thank you, V. That was the most wonderful thing you could have given me." She whispered softly.

V rested his head on top of Evey's, all the while gently stroking her soft curls. He returned her tight embrace, before whispering:

"No Evey, thank you."

**A/N**

**Happy New Year, lovelies!**

**Holy guacamole that ran away from me. It doesn't help that I've been knitting like a mad fool, which keeps me very occupied. Anyway, I really hope you guys liked this. **

**And here is what I am going to say about unmasking V: Ok, listen. I know why that couldn't have happened ever. He was an idea, and unmasking him would ruin that. I loved that in the movie. (although yeah, I wished it would have turned out differently for fluff purposes. I love the significance and meaning behind it though.) So in reality, I never would want that to happen because of its meaning, but for fanfiction purposes? Oh yeah, I'm in. Sign me up. **

**As usual, the shout outs:**

** StripesandShades (because screw how your capitals are! just kidding!) First of all, NAILED IT. Second of all, your reviews cracked me up. Drive thru V? Yes please. Write that. Now. **

** Then I have done my duty to keep you out of the awful dentist. Ech. But glad you liked it, and hope this gave you more smiles! :)**

** Vanillasyrup Thank you so much, your reviews are so wonderful!**

** Memiz YAY you got an account! Enjoy! :) (and your reviews always make my day!**

**The usual lovelies, I adore you. No idea when the next update will be, I'll keep you posted on my profile. But the next chapter is one I have been dying to write from day one. Thank you guys, and R&R! **


	20. Chapter 20

**I'm sooooo sorry about the wait, I know I said it was going to take only a week or two, but I had some AWFUL writers block. But, after watching the movie the other night, I got some much needed inspiration to finish the chapter. Enjoy!**

Chapter 20

Only a day after Christmas, and their first true kiss, Evey and V were curled up together in Evey's room, sleeping. It was Evey's first day back to work, and she had returned to the Gallery exhausted. After dinner, they had sat together to listen to the new record player and talk. But Evey's eyes had started to droop, and she was soon slumped over on V's shoulder, barely managing to stay awake.

Unlike most nights, Evey was the one to actually suggest that they retire, not the other way around. V had helped Evey up, and she went about her usual nighttime routine. She first put on her pajamas, which consisted of the shirt V had given her for Christmas, and a pair of flannel pants. Afterwards, she went to the bathroom and brushed her hair and her teeth, and washed her face. Meanwhile, V sat in the living room and waited for her, while he listened to the music that was playing. Finally, when Evey had finished, she returned to the chaise to fetch V. It was indeed one of the everyday routines that both V and Evey found comfort in.

It had been a normal, quiet evening. Now V was resting with Evey curled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around him. This had become a common routine as well; V hardly felt any anxiety about sleeping with Evey anymore, and it had become an unnecessary question to ask if he would stay. Now, V was drifting in and out of consciousness. He hadn't felt at all tired, but he found that he usually did sleep with Evey by his side, as her rhythmic breathing and warmth brought him into a sense of tranquility he simply could not explain. The usual silence and darkness of the Gallery had enveloped them both, and V was certain he was moments from sleep.

Suddenly, Evey's small arms clamped down powerfully onto his torso, and he could feel her fingers clawing into his back, while she let out a terrified scream. Before V even had a chance to react, her grip had faltered, and she was ripped screaming into the inky blackness of the Gallery. The last thing V heard was Evey's bloodcurdling screams, echoing inside the high ceilings of the Shadow Gallery.

V shot up right, and leapt from the bed. He was surrounded by pitch blackness, and all he could do was scream Evey's name. V whirled around in a desperate attempt to catch his bearings, but he couldn't see anything, although he had sworn he had left a small light on in the hallway. His mind was racing, and it felt as though his heart was about to pound right out of his chest. How on earth had someone gotten into the Gallery? And more importantly, how had they been able to sneak up on them undetected?

V was spinning around madly, trying to find any sort of landmark to base his search off of. But it was hopeless; the darkness was pure and absolute, and not even his heightened eyesight could penetrate it. V continued to desperately call out for Evey, but was answered with only the echo of his own voice.

Pressing his palms to his head, V tried to force himself to calm down and think logically. It was something V had learned to do with great skill, but now, he couldn't even begin to rein in his pounding thoughts. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he calm down and just _think?_

For the first time in a very, very long time, V began to panic. What was happening? Evey had just been kidnapped, and he couldn't even think straight!

While V was frantically searching the dark void he was in for any sign of Evey, or a way out, he could suddenly hear Evey again. She was whimpering quietly, and would occasionally call out for help in a very meek, scared voice. V was taken aback at how familiar the sound was. It was exactly how Evey had sounded when _he_ had kidnapped her, and she was waiting in the fake interrogation room. This was not the fearless Evey he had created and come to know; however, there was no mistaking that it was indeed Evey's voice.

"Evey!" V screamed again, desperately hoping that wherever she was, she could hear him and know that she would be safe.

After several more minutes of fruitless search, and hearing Evey's terrified pleas for help, V squeezed his eyes shut and let out a frustrated yell. It was something he had often done early on from his escape from Larkhill. Often, the hatred and anger that consumed him would become too much to handle, and he would have to scream and let it out. After this, he would take three very deep breaths, and open his eyes once again. He had found it to be an incredibly effective exercise to calm him down and help him regain focus. Hopefully, it would do the same for him now.

After his three deep breaths, V opened his eyes. When he did, he immediately had to shut them, as he was blinded by the brightness of the room he was now standing in. After a moment, V slowly opened his eyes again, and was both horrified and outraged at what he saw.

Evey was sitting alone in a bright, white room. It was a small, confined interrogation room that looked startlingly like the one v had created. Evey was chained to a cold, metal chair that had been bolted down to the floor. Evey was trembling, and her red, puffy eyes darting around the room in terror. V wasn't sure if he was relieved or horrified that the black bag was not covering Evey's pale face. After a moment, she struggled feebly against her restraints, but just as quickly, she broke down and started to cry, calling out for help once again.

V suddenly found his voice, and called out to her. He tried to run to her, and free her from her restraints, but found that he could not move any closer to her. Every step he took only propelled Evey another foot away from him, and when he called her name, Evey gave no reaction.

That was when V realized what else was so horribly wrong with this image before him. Evey's hair, which she now kept cropped well above her shoulders, was once again long and flowing below them. She was no longer wearing his old shirt, which V knew she had been wearing that evening. The scar she sustained from her latest kidnapping had vanished, while the scar Dominic Stone gave her was still red. The more angular features and dark circles under her eyes had disappeared as well. She looked like the young woman he had saved from Jordan Tower, many months ago.

V was dreaming.

V thought that once he had realized this, he would have the ability to wake from the nightmare, but he was unable to. V found himself trapped firmly within the hold of the dream, and was forced to watch it unfold.

Suddenly, the door leading into the room opened, and Evey's head jerked up. V watched as the look on Evey's face went from one of fear, to one of genuine relief. When he looked back to the door, he realized why.

He was standing there. Or at least, a version of him was standing there. Evey seemed quite surprised to see him, but there was no denying the relief that was on her face.

"Oh, V! Thank God you're here!" Evey gasped; almost in tears she was so relieved.

However, rather than rush to her side to untie her, the facsimile of V simply stood in the doorway, head cocked to the side. He was staring intently at Evey, and for a few very long seconds, there was an eerie silence that filled the sterile, white room. V looked at Evey once more, who began to squirm in the chair, uncomfortable under the false V's powerful gaze.

"V? What's wrong? Untie me," She spoke softly, with the beginnings of fear began to creep inside her voice once again.

Again, there was no response from the man who stood before her, and V was suddenly acutely aware of how menacing the imposter's posture was. This was how he would have approached an enemy, not Evey. V tried once again to go to her, but to no avail. After he gave that up, V continued to scream her name in hopes that she would hear him.

After a few more tense seconds, Evey finally let out a choked sob, "V? Please, help me!"

This time, the replica of V had a response, albeit a physical response. He took a few steps forward; they were quick and decisive, and V certainly took note of how aggressive they were. Evey visibly shrunk back in her chair, as though to get away from him. Although it was only a dream version of himself, it was devastating for V to see Evey react in such a way. It was one of his greatest fears: that Evey would one day be terrified of him.

"V please, you're scaring me!" Evey pleaded, more tears streaming down her face.

That sent the imposter into a fit of laughter, which only seemed to startle Evey all the more. V, or at least that version of him, was almost doubled over with wicked, jeering laughter. Finally, when he had caught his breath and composed himself, he leaned in close to Evey.

"I'm scaring you, Evey?" V sneered. "Perhaps that is because I am a monster."

Evey's eyes widened, but she shook her head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You said so yourself, my dear. I'm nothing but a monster." The false V raised himself to his full height now, and slowly reached his hands towards the satin ties of the mask. The real V's eyes widened in shock.

"What are you doing?" Evey whispered, although the answer to her question was fairly obvious. Now, Evey began to struggle against her restraints more noticeably.

But still the pretender would not answer. He only continued to slowly untie the strands that held his mask on, until finally, they dangled limp and he was left cradling the mask. Evey had frozen the moment she saw the ties fall, and V grabbed the mask.

Finally, V simply let his mask crash to the hard, tile floor, revealing his disfigured face in the harsh light. The imposter's wig concealed his visage, so the true V was unsure of how distorted his dream had made the truth.

But Evey's reaction was telling enough. Her eyes widened in shock, and immediately, she began to scream in horror. V was frozen. Was this the reaction he would receive if he ever chose to show Evey his true face? Was this a prediction of the future? A warning?

But what was worse than Evey's reaction was the doppelganger's reaction. Immediately, V saw his posture change from one of taunting dominance, to one of pure rage. V watched in dismay as his double coiled his arm back and let loose a devastating blow to Evey's face. Her head snapped back, and when Evey slowly raised her head again, he saw blood streaming out of her nose.

"You said you would love me!" The duplicate screamed, unleashing another furious blow. At this point, Evey was so shocked, all she could do was tremble and take in ragged breaths.

For his own part, the true V was trying desperately to break the hold the dream had on him. He tried to move towards Evey with all of his might, but was still blocked. When that failed, V tried to force himself to wake, but soon that failed as well. For the time being, V was forced to watch the next nightmare unfold.

His double was now circling Evey in a predatory manner, and V was quick to notice that the pretender had his knives drawn. Evey's eyes were wild with fear, and were darting around the room in search of any means of escape. When she spotted V's knives, she began to scream and struggle hopelessly against her restraints. V was in agony; it truly was his worst nightmare.

The double now seemed to be much calmer; although now an air of cold maliciousness was oozing off of him. Finally, he stopped in front of Evey once again, careful to make sure the real V could not see his face.

"Well Evey, now you know."

In spite of her terror, a look of confusion did manage to appear on Evey's tormented face. V laughed viciously, and explained.

"Why, my _dear,_" He seethed, "Now you can see the face you kissed."

With his final words, V watched as his double suddenly kneeled in front of Evey, and violently trapped her in a kiss. Unlike the kiss they had shared the night before, this kiss was vicious and full of hatred and aggression. She struggled against him, although it was futile; his strength was overwhelming. After what seemed like an eternity, it was over, and V watched his replica rise slowly and turn as if he was going to leave the room. Tears were pouring out of Evey's eyes, and she was wailing uncontrollably.

The replica hadn't even taken a step when he sudden wheeled on Evey, impaling her with the blade he had been twirling in his hand. In that instant, V thought he felt his heart stop. He was so completely appalled at this vision that he simply crumbled. It would have been less painful to take the brunt of the blow himself; and in that moment, V certainly wished he had.

Evey's eyes were wide with shock, and for a few brief moments, it appeared as though she didn't recognize that she had just been stabbed. Finally, she glanced down and saw the blade protruding from her chest. Her own blood had now soaked through her thin cotton shirt, and it continued to flow freely.

Slowly, Evey looked up at her attacker, and let out a cough of blood. She took in a long, ragged breath, before giving the false man a harsh glare. V was much more familiar with the hard stare of this woman, and it shocked him to see the dramatic change in her demeanor. V watched as Evey gathered enough energy to spit blood in his general direction.

"Monster," She snarled, using the last of her strength to condemn the man before her.

The monster's own reaction was to thrust the blade deeper into her chest, and give it a powerful twist, all the while screaming in rage. He waited, watching as Evey coughed up a few last spurts of blood, before the light faded out of her hazel eyes and her head rolled to the side, completely limp.

"Evey! No!" V began to scream, desperately trying to get to her. But it was futile, and he was forced to struggle against some unknown might that held him back, and watch while Evey bled out before him.

In the midst of his despair, V suddenly heard her voice. He snapped his head up and looked at Evey's limp body, but did not see any signs of life. Had he imagined it? He thought he had heard Evey calling out his name, but her lifeless body had not moved in the slightest.

Suddenly, he heard her voice again, desperately calling his name. He spun around, trying to locate the voice, but was met only by pure darkness. V suddenly could not see Evey anymore, no matter which way he turned, and was now beginning to panic once more. Her voice was growing louder, which provided only a small comfort after what he had just witnessed.

"_V! Wake up!"_

Finally, V was ripped from the darkness. He shot upright, letting out a yelp as he did so. Quickly, V took in his surroundings; he was back inside Evey's room. Once he realized this, V's hands immediately flew to his face, ensuring that the mask was secure. After Evey's reaction in his dream, V was absolutely petrified about what her true reaction would be. V knew he could not risk that.

Then, V heard a very timid voice behind him. He turned, and saw Evey propped on her knees, staring worriedly at him. Her eyes were shining with fear, but mostly they were filled with concern. However, V was most relieved to see that she was not bleeding, and was very much alive.

"V? Are you alright?" She whispered. Evey had been sleeping contentedly in V's arms when she had been awakened by V's arms clamping around her like a vice. The air rushed from her lungs, and her breathing had become constricted. It was like having two steel cables wrapped around her. It took her several minutes to squirm her way out of his grip. Once she managed to get free, Evey had watched him for a few minutes, thinking that the dream had since passed. She had laid back down next to him, and was about to fall asleep again when V began to call her name. It was when V began to shout that Evey had become very concerned, and tried to wake him.

V, who was breathing heavily, was still trying to recover from the dream. When Evey placed her hand softly on his shoulder, V was still so rattled that he quickly shied away. Evey considered trying again, but decided against it, not wanting to upset V anymore. However, she would offer her words as comfort, if he would refuse her touch.

"It was just a dream, V. Everything is alright. I'm right here," Evey soothed.

V didn't respond, as he simply couldn't find the words. They stayed in silence for a few moments, while V's heart rate slowed, and his breathing regulated. V couldn't even look at Evey, but he could feel her eyes boring holes into his back. Finally, Evey broke the silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, softly. She scooted slightly closer to V, and once again attempted to put her hand on V's shoulder. This time, V did not shake her off, but he remained rigid and defensive.

"No, Evey. It was just a dream. I apologize for waking you. You should return to bed." V finally replied in a low, strained voice. Suddenly, he rose from the bed, letting Evey's hand fall back to the bed. "I think it might be best if I returned to my own quarters this evening."

Evey was shocked at V's abrupt behavior. What was so bad about his dream that it made him react in such a way?

While she sat looking hurt and confused on the bed, V decided to make his leave. He couldn't bear to see her this way, but he also knew that he needed some time to sort out the dream on his own. V didn't think he would be able to repeat the nightmare in his own mind, let alone tell Evey about it.

Evey, however, would not allow V to escape that easily. She knew that if V kept this bottled up inside of him, it would only cause him more distress. And Evey would admit that she was quite concerned about what happened in the dream; after all, he had called out her name many times.

Before V could take even a step away from the bed, Evey reached forward and snagged his arm, "Not until you've told me what this is about. If you tell me and still think that would be best, that's fine, but you need to talk about it. You can't just bottle it up inside."

V turned and looked at Evey, and the determination on her face. She was so different from the woman in his dream; she was strong and confident. But those two women could very easily have the same reaction if the mask ever came off. However, the way the Evey in front of him was clinging onto his arm made him reconsider his previous statement.

"Please, V. Let me help you," Evey pleaded, snapping V back to attention.

V let out a sigh, "Evey, I don't think…"

"If the roles were reversed, you wouldn't let me walk away from it. You would tell me the exact same thing that I'm telling you. Don't you trust me?" Evey asked.

"It is not a lack of trust that holds me back, Evey." V replied in a soft voice.

"Well then what _is _holding you back?" Evey rose then to stand in front of V, who kept his head tilted away from her and avoided meeting her eyes. Evey tried to coax the mask to look at her, and when that failed, she contented herself with grabbing V's hand while she waited for a response.

V was silent for several minutes, gathering his thoughts. Evey was correct; if she was the one to have the nightmare, he would not have let her drop the subject and avoid it. But if he told Evey about the dream, it would surely point out his weaknesses, which was something he refused to do. It would also indicate that he subconsciously didn't trust her; after all, he knew that dreams were gateways to the subconscious.

"I was in it, wasn't I?" Evey prompted. V's head snapped to face her then, shocked. Evey gave him a soft smile before explaining, "You said my name in your sleep. Several times."

V dropped his head and let out a defeated sigh. He knew that now, he could not avoid this. If she had any idea of what the dream was about, V knew that she would start creating her own scenarios about what the dream could have been about. At this point, he wasn't really sure if that would have been good or bad. Finally, V sat down on the bed, taking Evey with him.

"Yes, you were Evey." He relented.

"And I take it that something bad happened?"

"Yes," was all V could manage.

Evey pursed her lips. Although V had finally relented, he was not being at all forthcoming. Something truly awful must have happened in the dream to make him act so defensive, which made her all the more curious and concerned. Evey was very concerned; the walls she had been meticulously taking down brick by brick were suddenly springing back up to their full height.

Slowly, Evey shifted closer to V, and rested her hand on the mask. Every one of V's muscles was rigid, and V kept his face pointed forward, never moving even a fraction in Evey's direction. Evey knew that this would take work to get out of him, but that it would be well worth the effort.

"What ever happened in your dream was just that: a dream. I'm still right here, and I always will be. You know that. No matter what happened in the dream, that won't change!" Evey soothed.

The last bit of resolve came tumbling down, dragging the walls V had spent decades building up with them. V dropped his head into his hands, cradling the mask that had betrayed him in his own mind. Evey wrapped her arms comfortingly around him, patient and caring as always, waiting for him to speak.

"You were taken from the Gallery, and I was left in complete darkness. I could not see where you had gone, or who had taken you. I could not see anything, for that matter. It was pure, absolute darkness that I had been submerged in."

The mask tilted ever so slightly to the side, to glance at Evey. She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"The next thing I saw was you, as though you had been returned to the false prison I had created for you. It was like a snapshot directly out of the past. You were terrified; it was as though I was relieving the past. But when I tried to go to you and release you, I was frozen. You could not hear me. It was then that _I_ walked into the room."

Evey furrowed her brow, "I'm confused."

"My apologies, Evey. It was a version of me that walked into the room with you, while I was forced to observe." V clarified. Evey nodded in understanding, and motioned for V to continue. "You were initially relieved at my arrival; however, that quickly faded. I refused to help you."

"Go on," Evey whispered.

"You became nervous, and understandably so. After a few moments, you said as much, which is when I finally spoke. I replied, saying that it only made sense you were so scared, because you thought I was a monster. It was then that I…removed my mask." V stopped then, needing a moment to collect himself before he continued with the most chilling part of the dream.

"And then what?" Evey asked after a few minutes of tense silence.

"You screamed. You were terrified." V managed to choke out. Next to him, Evey felt her heart plummet to the pit of her stomach, and she let her head drop. Did V really think that could ever happen?

"V…" Evey began, desperately hoping to comfort and correct his man's horrible assumptions. But V cut her off.

"Evey if I do not finish now, I fear I will never be able to." Evey's eyes widened. This nightmare got worse? It was no wonder V was in a panic when he woke.

"Of course, V. I'm sorry for interrupting."

"My double was enraged with your reaction, which prompted him to wield my knives and use them against you. It was after this that you woke me." That was all the detail V was willing to go into, although he felt like it was more than enough. Going into all of the details would have been excruciating.

After V had finished summarizing his nightmare, Evey moved to sit behind V, so that she could wrap her arms firmly around him and rest her head on his shoulder. V was completely rigid; Evey hadn't seen him this tense in many long months. It took V several minutes to even slightly relieve his taught muscles, and even then, Evey was not satisfied. They stayed locked in that tight embrace for a long time; V's sharp breaths had quieted, and had synchronized to Evey's slow, rhythmic breathing. When Evey felt that V was calm enough, she spoke in a soft, soothing voice:

"None of that would ever happen, you know. No matter what happens in our lives, know that I love you, V. And those horrible things will never happen." Evey paused to place a soft kiss on V's tense shoulder. "The woman in that dream wasn't me, just like the man wasn't you. They might have been, in a different lifetime. But you and I both know that that isn't who we are, and that would never happen."

V wanted to believe Evey, and a large part of him actually did. He trusted Evey more than anyone, but V knew very well that humans were unpredictable. If that fateful day should ever arrive, he could not predict her reaction, and he was inclined to believe the very worst.

"You cannot predict the future, Evey."

"Of course not, V. And neither can you. Which is why sometimes, you have to trust that things will be alright, and you have to trust the people around you."

V turned then, so that he could face Evey. "Do you doubt my trust in you?"

Evey heard both the hurt and the concern in his voice. She hadn't intended her statement to be taken that way. Slowly, Evey raised her hand and cradled Guy Fawkes' enamel cheek. The black eye screens were staring intently at her, and she met the full force of V's stare.

"No, I don't. But it sounds like you do."

"I trust you more than anyone, Evey!" V responded, hurt. Certainly she would know by now how much he trusted her. After everything they had been through together, V doubted he could ever trust anyone like he trusted Evey.

"And I know you do, V. But I also know that we have different levels of trust." Evey sighed. "I understand that terrible things have been done to you, and that you have your demons. It's hard for you to trust, and I know that you do trust me, but on your own level. It is going to take time to reach the complete level of trust. I understand that, V, and I want to be here for you every step of the way."

V stared at Evey for several moments, taking in her determined expression, and her soft eyes. He was always amazed at how much emotion could be played out on Evey's face at any given time. For instance, now, Evey's brows were furrowed and her lips were pursed. Those alone would have been indicators of nothing but determination, and a little bit of frustration. But her eyes were filled with nothing but caring devotion. Never before had V seen someone who could look so intimidating while at the same time being so tender.

"I only wish you did not have to wait for that day, Evey." V responded with a regretful sigh. He was about to mention once again that she deserved much more than what he could offer, but he knew she would not accept that.

Evey smiled, and then gave V's enamel cheek a soft peck. "You're well worth the wait."

Finally, V allowed Evey to wrap her arms around him, and he returned the embrace. V let out a large sigh, and whispered his love to Evey. His muscles finally relaxed, and he melted into Evey's arms once she returned his sentiment. Her warmth and devotion helped calm and comfort him, and V berated himself for not accepting her healing embrace earlier. After several minutes, Evey managed to cajole V into lying down once again.

V wasn't sure why he doubted her, and himself, when everything kept telling him not to. Evey was always so diligent in breaking down his barriers, and supporting him the entire time. V didn't know why everything had to be so difficult; but, V did know one thing: Evey was right when she said it would take time.

However, it comforted him to hear her say she would be with him to overcome those obstacles, no matter what they were. It was something that deep down, he had always known, but never fully believed. Now, with Evey wrapped tightly in his arms, V could finally start to believe it.

**A/N**

**First things first, thanks for putting up with me. I'm just the worst, and you guys are the best. And what makes you guys the best? Besides your wonderful reviews, you guys helped this story break 10,000 views! I love you guys. You're the best readers I could have asked for! **

**On a completely different note, this chapter was inspired by an Alex Clare song: "Sanctuary" I love Alex Clare, check him out. (He did that really popular internet explorer commercial song, "Too Close") Aaaaand on to the shout outs!**

** Nancy ng: Thanks so much for both of your lovely reviews! I'm glad this story is worth the trouble of translating it, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! (I wish I was on the coast of Veracruz. Its cold where I'm from)**

** MissVforVendetta Brazil? Why are all of you guys making jealous that its COLD here! Anyway, thanks so much for your review! **

** Broken As always, thanks for your reviews! And UGH I can't believe I forgot about Henry Mancini and Glenn Miller! I was trying to remember an example, and for some reason I could not for the life of me think of it! (which is ridiculous, because I have their albums sitting on my shelf. yikes.) Also, thanks for pointing out my typos, I'll try and go back and find them!**

** AkanePandora I'm glad you enjoyed it! I've always been apprehensive about it as well, but I'm very pleased that it got a good reception. And like I said, for fan fiction, I'm in ;) **

** Tomboy895 Hmmmm...you think? ;) Thanks so much for your review, I'm glad you liked how it turned out! **

**GUYS. I hate to beg, but reviews honestly keep me so motivated. If its been a while, leave me a message to help me out! Love you guys, R&R!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Oy vey, I am strugglin. Anyway, I hope you lovelies enjoy this chapter, I was pretty pleased. Also, there is gonna be some important information at the bottom, so stay tuned mmkay? **

Chapter 21

It was nearly 10 o'clock when Evey Hammond finally made her way out of her office. It had never been her intention to stay so late, as she had been hoping to spend her night in the Shadow Gallery. However, those plans had been dashed when several deadlines had been moved up, and Evey became engrossed in her work. Evey had lost all sense of time, and when she had finally glanced at the clock, she audibly gasped. It was no wonder it was getting harder and harder for her to keep her eyes open and actually focus on her work.

The cold December air was a welcome relief from the stuffiness of Evey's office, and it wakened her considerably. Evey stood outside the building for a few minutes, simply breathing in the air, before the cold finally started to seep through her coat, reminding her that she should be moving along.

Evey was halfway to the parking lot when she suddenly remembered that she had walked this morning, as she had spent the night in the Shadow Gallery. Usually, whenever Evey spent the night with V, she would walk to work, as there was a relatively close tube station. Normally it would not have been a problem, because she usually had plans to return that same evening. However, with her plans of going to the Gallery gone, Evey let out a sigh when she realized she would have to walk to her flat. Although the walk wasn't terribly far, it was far enough for an exhausted Evey Hammond.

At least Evey was no longer afraid of walking down the streets at night. Evey recalled how only two years ago, the idea of walking through the streets of London at this hour would have been terrifying. Of course, her fears had been justified that fateful night of November 4th. But it retrospect, Evey had always been glad that she decided to take the risk that evening.

Using that memory to spur herself into action, Evey set off down the sidewalk at a brisk pace. Despite no longer having a curfew set in place, no one was out walking or generally lounging around the streets. Evey was not surprised; in addition to being bitterly cold out, staying indoors was a hard habit for people to break. In time, the streets would become active once again.

After walking in solitude for several blocks, Evey suddenly heard a pair of footsteps behind her. Before, this would have scared her senseless, but now, Evey paid them no mind. She didn't even bother to turn around and cast a suspicious glance at them. Perhaps it was simply someone out enjoying their freedom, or walking a dog. For the briefest of seconds, Evey even considered that it might have been V, trying to scare her so that she would not walk alone at night. She remembered how he had pulled a similar stunt when he snuck into her flat to remind her to lock her windows. But Evey simply concluded that it was a fellow citizen, out for a stroll.

Evey was only a few blocks from her flat when she turned down a small alley that she knew to be a shortcut. Evey had hardly taken ten steps into the alley when she suddenly noticed that the sounds of footsteps behind her had not faded, as she had expected, but had actually grown louder. It had not bothered her that whoever was behind her had followed her for several blocks; after all, it was a main street. But now, Evey knew that she actually was being followed. She doubted that this person just so happened to use this very same alley as a shortcut; as V always told her, there were no coincidences.

Once Evey came upon this realization, she knew that she needed something to protect herself. Almost imperceptibly, Evey reached into her bag and produced a small canister of pepper spray. Adrenaline was pumping through Evey's blood stream, getting ready for a fight or flight response. Evey kept her eyes trained forward, and increased her pace, hoping to at least escape the secluded alleyway.

It was when the footsteps suddenly quickened that Evey could not maintain her composure, and she wheeled on her follower, brandishing her pepper spray.

"You'd better stop following me, or you might regret it!" Evey snarled.

The man that stood before her was currently shrouded in darkness, so Evey could not make out his face. But she saw that he was only a few inches taller than she was, and had a very slight frame. When the man stepped into the light, Evey was able to make out his facial features. He had an enormous handlebar mustache, which seemed to be almost too big for his small stature. Underneath the greasy brown mustache, Evey saw a set of equally brown teeth. He reminded Evey of one of the fingermen who had attacked her almost two years ago, although she knew that they had very different intentions.

"Now, isn't that sweet?" The man laughed. "I'm terrified."

"I'm warning you, if you don't back off, you'll regret it!" Evey warned again.

The man before her laughed once again, before responding, "Oh, I don't think so."

With that, the man advanced, and knocked the pepper spray out of Evey's hands before she even had a chance to react. Once Evey realized that she was disarmed, she spun on her heel and sprinted towards the end of the alley. She had almost made her way out when she was grabbed roughly by the arms and yanked backwards. Evey instinctively let out a scream, and tried to fight off her attacker. However, it was to no avail. Although the man wasn't much bigger than she, he harbored incredible hidden strength.

Now, Evey's attacker had her forced against the brick wall. Perhaps if adrenaline wasn't coursing through her system, Evey would have reflected upon the bitter irony of the entire situation. But now, Evey was only focused on warding off her attacker.

"It's such a shame, really," the man began. Evey's eyes widened as he took out a small knife, and her desperate struggling was renewed. "You've got such a pretty face; it's a shame I'm going to have to carve a nice, big X into it."

"A wise man would rethink that proposition."

Evey let out a gasp of recognition and relief when she heard the deep, resonant voice of her masked vigilante coming from behind her assailant. The luminescent smile of Guy Fawkes loomed over the assassin while the moonlight gave the mask an eerie, ghostlike pallor.

There was a brilliant flash of steel, and Evey suddenly noticed a familiar blade pressed forcefully against her attacker's throat. The man's eyes were wide, and the color had flushed out of his face. However, he still maintained a firm grip on his blade, and held it uncomfortably close to Evey's face.

"Perhaps I was not clear. Release her." V's rich voice snarled. Evey saw the pressure increase on the knife; the skin drew taught, until a small drop of blood escaped.

"Who are you?" The assassin managed to ask. He still had not dropped his knife, which greatly angered V. He was losing his patience entirely with this piece of filth, but he knew he needed to restrain himself. This man had information, he was certain of it.

In one swift movement, V spun the man around to the opposite wall, making sure that he never spotted him. The man let out a yelp, but V quickly silenced him by pressing the tip of his dagger firmly against the small of the man's back. The man fought against V, although after a few moments, he realized that it was futile.

"You are not in a position to be asking questions. Now, where are the remaining cells?"

Despite his predicament, the man managed to laugh. "You think I'm going to tell you, mate? You might as well kill me."

V pressed the dagger harder into the man's back, causing him to gasp in pain. V leaned close to the man, before whispering, "Do not tempt me. I would take your life without a second thought."

Again, the man managed another breathless laugh.

"Bollocks! I know you won't with her here." The man sneered, managing to tilt his head towards Evey.

V glanced over his shoulder at the woman leaning up against the wall. Although he knew she wasn't afraid, he knew that she was undoubtedly shaken. He had made her brave, but he had not removed her instincts. No matter how brave a person was, being attacked in a dark alley could be a traumatic experience.

Now, Evey's eyes were wide, not with fear, but with concern. V could see the conflict playing out in her eyes; he saw the desire for this man to suffer, but also the desire for him to face justice through the government. It was the constant turmoil that played out inside of him, and V had never before seen it inside of Evey's eyes. Perhaps he truly had influenced her more than he knew.

But, despite the half of Evey that wanted the man to die, V knew that the man was indeed correct. He simply could not bring himself to kill this man in front of his beloved Evey. However, it was not the idea that Evey would not be strong enough that held him back. Evey had seen unspeakable things, many of which had been at his hand. V simply did not want this to be another addition to the long list of black marks of his that Evey had witnessed. He did not have to force Evey to watch him resort to the image he was trying to separate himself from.

"Of course not. I would never do something so heinous in the presence of a lady." V began, lightly tracing the dagger up the man's spine. "But I certainly would harm you. Perhaps torture you to within an inch of your life. So I ask you again. Where is X?"

The man simply remained silent, which only enraged V all the more. He applied more pressure on the knife, causing the man to actually cry out in pain. V steadily began to increase the pressure, and saw a dark stain of blood suddenly blossom on the fabric of the man's shirt.

"Must I continually repeat myself?"

V was just about to thrust the knife deeper still, when he suddenly felt a small hand on his shoulder. V turned slightly, still keeping a firm grasp on his victim, and saw that Evey had approached him. The conflict he had seen earlier seemed to have quieted some, although traces of it could still be seen. However, when Evey spoke, her voice was still and sure.

"You should let Finch handle this. I understand; truly, I do. But he isn't talking, and I don't want you to lose your temper." Evey suggested calmly. She watched as V let out a sharp breath, and quickly sheathed his knife.

Once the man heard their exchange, and no longer felt the pressure of V's knife, he let out a cruel laugh. "You're all full of talk; I knew you wouldn't do anything." He taunted.

This was enough to unleash a small bit of V's infamous temper. V suddenly lashed out, dealing the man a devastating blow to the head. The man crumpled to the ground, and V made no move to stop it. He had made sure the blow was strong enough to knock the man out, but not so strong that it would have killed him.

Evey stared at V for a few seconds, while V stared down at the man at his feet. They remained in silence for several minutes, until V finally straightened himself up to his full height, and turned to Evey.

"Evey, are you alright?"

"We really must stop meeting like this, V." Evey quipped, trying to put V at ease.

"Evey…" V began. Now was really not the time for humor.

"Yes, V. I'm alright. Just a bit shaken, is all." Evey responded.

V nodded, and took yet another glance at his victim. He was almost certain at this point that the man was suffering from a concussion, although that suited V just fine. V looked at Evey once more.

"Call Finch."

* * *

"Evey, are you alright?"

Those were the first words out of Eric Finch's mouth as he stepped out of his car. After Evey had called Finch and explained the sensitivity of the situation, he had rushed to the scene as soon as he could, alone. Evey had explained that V would be there, and therefore, they did not need police swarming the scene for the time being.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you Eric."

"What on earth happened?" Eric asked, spying the dispatched assassin lying on the ground. Currently, the man was still unconscious, but was beginning to groan, indicating that he would not be for much longer.

Now, V stepped out of the shadows to greet Finch. He nodded at the man before he began to explain: "Evey was walking home, and I noticed that this man had been following her for several blocks. When she turned down this alley, presumably as a short cut, the man confronted her."

"I gathered that much. What I really want to know is why he is lying unconscious." Finch replied, giving V a pointed look. He certainly hoped that this man would eventually be coherent enough for questioning and ultimately a trial.

"When the man refused to talk, Evey wisely suggested that we detain him. Clearly, it is a priority for me to remain hidden. Therefore, the only logical solution was to render him unconscious." V explained in a very matter-of-fact manner.

"Did he say anything that stuck out at either of you two?"

Evey finally spoke up, "His original goal was to carve an X into my face. I think that might be fairly telling."

"Although X was the most obvious suspect, the question he refused to answer was where the remaining cells were." V added. "With time, and other methods, I could have retrieved this information. However, it now falls to you."

"Thank you, V. Really." Finch gave him a small, knowing smile, before he and V hauled the man into Finch's car. After they had shut the door, Finch turned to Evey.

"You're sure you're alright?" He asked once more. Evey nodded.

"Could you do me a favor, and stop walking down dark alleys at night?" This earned him a playful scowl from Evey. "In all seriousness, Evey, please be more careful. You are everything to this revolution. V, thank you for watching out for her."

With that, Finch turned on his heel and got into his car. Evey and V waited for him to drive out of sight before they turned to one another.

"Shall I escort you home, Evey?" V asked, gesturing to her flat, which was now in view. Evey followed his arm, but then looked back at V.

"Would it be alright if I stayed in the Gallery tonight?" Evey asked, seemingly shy. V was slightly shocked to see her so timid, especially about something she knew he would not mind in the slightest. Perhaps she was more shaken up than she had let on.

"Of course, love. You are always welcome, you know this," V replied. In reality, V was relieved that she had suggested this. He would have offered regardless, as it made him feel much better that he would be able to personally see to her safety that night. "Come, we should be on our way. You can take a nice hot shower while I prepare you a cup of tea."

Evey nodded, and they set off down the street, sticking to the shadows to avoid detection. It did not take long for Evey to twine their fingers together. This simple act always brought a broad smile onto V's face, and now, it provided Evey with a sense of comfort.

While they walked, V noticed how quiet Evey had become. Normally, their walks together were fairly devoid of idle chat, but Evey would occasionally sigh or hum slightly in the back of her throat. To an untrained observer, this would have gone unnoticed. But V most certainly took a notice in the changed silence that hung between them. However, V did not feel that it was an appropriate time to bring it up. Perhaps once they were in the safety and seclusion of the Gallery, Evey would open up to him.

* * *

"Shall I prepare you a cup of tea, love?" V asked after helping Evey out of her jacket.

"Yes, please. That would be lovely." Evey responded quietly. "I think I'm going to go take a shower like you suggested. I won't be long."

V nodded, "Take all the time you need Evey."

Evey smiled softly at V and then made her way to her bedroom. She selected her usual pajamas, consisting of one of V's shirts, and a pair of shorts. After Evey found these items, and a few other toiletries, she went to the bathroom and started the water.

Once the hot water began to sooth and un-knot her tense muscles, Evey was able to think. She wasn't entirely sure what had her so upset; after all, she was fearless Evey Hammond. She had sneered in the face of her kidnappers, and even orchestrated an escape. She had been threatened by government officials, and nearly killed in an explosion. She had been tortured, and was now leading an entire country through revolution. Nothing fazed her; so she wasn't exactly sure why she was so shaken up by a simple minded thug.

Evey certainly knew that her adrenaline was not helping the matter. No matter how fearless she claimed to be, almost being killed would leave a person a bit flustered. But still, that wasn't what was really troubling Evey. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that what she was really struggling against was an internal conflict she had been struggling with for a long time.

Evey had wished death upon the man who had attacked her. She could not deny the fact that when she was watching V, slowly impaling the man before her very eyes, she almost did not stop him. The only thing that had compelled her to step forward and stay her beloved's hand was the thought of lying to her people. This man needed to be tried for his crimes, and the people needed to see that the threat was being handled. They would not be satisfied with the secret murders of rebel fingermen.

This had been a constant turmoil inside her mind, especially in the aftermath of the attack on the Fifth. When V had left to kill those responsible, Evey realized that that was wrong. She could not allow V to quench his thirst for revenge by killing the men who needed to be put in prison. But when he had returned that night, Evey could not find it in her heart to be angry at him. She was not sure if she had been relieved, or upset by his choice.

Evey sighed. The water was beginning to run cold, so she turned off the tap and quickly wrapped herself in one of the plush towels V kept in the bathroom. Evey could faintly hear the sounds of V tinkering away in the kitchen, and for a brief moment, Evey thought she could hear either the Wurlitzer or the record player. V would be waiting for her, so Evey quickly toweled off and slipped into her pajamas. Perhaps V would have some answers for her.

"Sorry that took so long, V." Evey said as she emerged into the main room of the Gallery. She spotted V perched on the chaise, a book in hand. This was a common sight in the Gallery that always brought a sense of calm over Evey. It was an image that had become so ingrained into Evey's mind, that she always associated it with the comfort of being with V in the Gallery.

V turned to look at Evey, who was wearing that shirt of his. When she was in this state, freshly showered, messy haired, and slightly vulnerable, V found Evey to be absolutely breathtaking. Now was no exception, except now V did notice the weariness on Evey's face.

"There is no need to apologize, Evey. Please, come and sit. I'll fetch your tea from the kitchen." V responded, rising to head to the kitchen. When he returned, he found Evey curled into the arm of the chaise, staring at him with her large hazel eyes. He handed her the tea, which she accepted with a smile, and then sat next to her.

They sat together in silence for several minutes while Evey slowly sipped at her tea. In truth, she wasn't really in the mood for tea, but it warmed her considerably. V said nothing; he only watched Evey carefully, waiting for her to say something.

Evey felt V's patient gaze, along with the weight of his anticipation. She wanted to say what was on her mind, but she truly wasn't sure where she should begin. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to, as V suddenly broke the silence:

"Is there anything else I can get you, Evey?" V asked softly.

"No thank you, V." Evey sighed.

"Tell me what is really upsetting you, Evey."

For a few moments, Evey remained silent, trying to formulate her next words carefully. She stared into the black eye screens of the mask, wishing she could see a faint glimmer of emotion. Currently, the tilt of the mask betrayed nothing about the man underneath. Finally, Evey let out another deep breath before she began.

"It isn't the attack that is bothering me. You know what kind of person I've become, and everything that I've seen. Something like that isn't really going to affect me terribly."

"It would be understandable for you to be upset about that, Evey. I would not fault you for it." V offered, in case Evey was trying to hide her true fears. But Evey just shook her head.

"Of course I was frightened in the moment, but I'm alright. I've already moved past it, and accepted that it is just another thing that has happened to me."

"Then what troubles you so, love?"

"I think it's something that you can relate to. I've been very conflicted about this for a long time, but more so after the attack at Gordon's party." Evey paused, and closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath. V slowly reached out and took her hand to offer her some comfort and support.

"I wanted you to kill him, V." Evey finally admitted.

V furrowed his brows, "What?" He wasn't quite sure he took her meaning.

"That man, who attacked me. I…I wanted you to kill him. I know that it was wrong of me to wish death upon him, and I know that he really got the justice he deserved. And the justice the _people_ deserve. But in that moment, I almost couldn't stop you from hurting him."

Now, V recalled the conflict he had seen in Evey's eyes while in the alley. He had no idea that it had been playing out to this extent. Evey was correct in saying that it was something he could relate to; it was the inner strife that had been plaguing him ever since he had come back into Evey's life.

"I do understand something about this conflict, Evey. It is difficult to balance this…_insatiable_ desire for revenge and delivering justice in a way the people of England can benefit from. It is especially difficult for me, given my past experiences with vengeance." V replied.

"The line is constantly blurring," Evey sighed in agreement.

"O, vengeance! Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, that I, the son of a dear father murdered, prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, and fall a-cursing." V quoted, bringing a soft smile to Evey's weary face.

"Do you ever feel like Hamlet, V?" She queried.

"Oh yes, I do find him to be quite relatable. Sometimes I fancy myself to be a reincarnation of the poor prince. I am both committed to this revenge, and repulsed by it. I am trying to move on from twenty years of anger and hatred, filled only with revenge. It is a difficult transition, and it is only recently that I find myself so akin to Lord Hamlet." V lamented.

Evey took this opportunity to scoot closer to V's side, so that he could welcome her into his embrace. She nestled close to the warmth of his side, resting her head on his chest. They stayed frozen like this, Evey listening to the strong beating of V's heart, while V instinctively matched his breathing to Evey's.

"How do you do it, V? How do you manage to keep the balance?" Evey asked softly.

"I simply remind myself of everything that I have sacrificed for this revolution, and all the work that you continue to do for it. I try and remember that I resigned myself to die so that I would not influence the world, and that I was not given a second lease on life to go back on that promise." V paused for a moment to think. "Usually, I simply think of you, Evey. And what you would want me to do."

Evey laughed, "I thought I'd made it clear that even _I_ don't know what I want to do."

V chuckled alongside her, "Oh, I think you do, Evey. Deep down, you would have regretted me killing that man. You would have wanted me to stay my blade, so that he could be taken in for questioning, in order to find the rest of the cell. It was for the greater good. You did the right thing, and I trust you will continue to do so."

"Thank you, V." Evey replied in a hushed whisper.

"Evey, you should know that I am trying to live by your example. I too wish to make the right choice, although for me, it is difficult to move past what _I _feel to be right, and what the people feel to be right. I will try Evey; but, I am not perfect, and you know who I am and all that I have done. There may be a time, some day, when I simply cannot bow down to that. I hope that day never comes, but know that it might." V sighed. "I promise to try, Evey. But I can promise you no more than that."

Evey righted herself to look more closely at V. He was looking straight ahead, and his posture betrayed nothing. However, Evey could feel the emotions rolling off of him in waves, and she had heard all that the mask could not portray in his words. She was touched at how sincere his soliloquy was; Evey knew that this was incredibly difficult for V, given his past.

"I know you will, V. And that is all that any of us really can do; is try to be better. I know that this is going to be hard, but we'll work through it together." Evey made sure to emphasize the last part of her statement. Evey thought she could feel the shift in V's attitude, and could have sworn she saw the corner of Guy Fawkes' mask twitch slightly into a smile. Satisfied with that, she settled back down into V's side.

After a few minutes, a thought crossed Evey's mind, and she suddenly spoke up against the silence.

"You know V; you said a long time ago that you stayed hidden because you didn't want to influence me." Evey stated, looking up to the mask to look for a reaction. She knew that it was a tender subject for them both, and she hoped that she wouldn't upset him.

The mask dropped slightly, and V frowned slightly beneath it. He sighed softly, "Yes, I remember."

Evey sat up then, so that she could better look into the eyes of the mask. She gently rested her hand on the cool enamel, causing V to raise his head to look directly at her.

"You made me who I am today, V. Without you, who knows where I would be today or _who_ I would be. All I'm saying is that you influenced me a long, long time ago." She smiled softly. "But I'm glad you did."

She leaned forward then, and pressed a soft kiss onto Guy Fawkes's unmoving lips. Evey heard the sharp, familiar intake of air that came associated with one of her kisses. It brought a wide smile to her face to know that even now, V still had that reaction.

However, V suddenly gave Evey a new reaction that she had never experienced before. As she was pulling away, V suddenly reached out his leather clad hand and rested it on Evey's cheek, halting her retreat. They stared into each other's eyes for a brief moment; Evey's full of curiosity, while behind the mask V's were full of growing confidence.

"Close your eyes," V whispered softly.

Evey blinked her eyes in bewilderment at V's sudden request. She was about to protest when V's intentions suddenly dawned on her. She flashed V a gentle smile before obeying. V's hand only left her cheek for a moment, and was quickly returned once Evey heard the thick clunk of the mask on the table. Before Evey could even think about resisting, her hands had alighted on V's scarred flesh, sending a shiver of excitement down Evey's spine.

Evey could not help exploring the deep ridges of his face once again, trying to build on her mental image of his true visage. V remained frozen, forcing himself to breath slowly and relax while Evey gently feathered his face with light caresses. His heart beat was slowly regulating, and after a few tense minutes, V was finally able to begin enjoying Evey's tender strokes.

Slowly, Evey traced V's bottom lip with the tip of her finger, smiling in delight as she felt V's breath tickle her soft skin. For her, actually feeling him breath was one of the most incredible experiences. It was something that she was always denied, because of the mask. Evey knew that she would never tire of the feeling.

Finally, the anticipation reached a boiling point for them both, and Evey gave in to the strong desire to kiss him. As with their first kiss, when their lips first met, they were both tentative and unsure. But after a few seconds, V suddenly shocked himself and Evey by cradling her cheek once more, and pulling her in for a deeper kiss.

Any of V's doubts about offending Evey or being too forward were erased as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, trying to be as close to him as physically possible. Evey continued to caress his face, memorizing the feel of being this close to her beloved.

When they finally had to break apart for a breath of air, Evey let out a breathy, contented sigh. V wasn't sure exactly what struck him as humorous, but he suddenly began to chuckle softly, with Evey joining in. Perhaps it was just an emotional release; they had both been waiting for so long to feel a kiss like that.

After their moment of laughter, Evey settled herself once again into V's side, resting her head in the crook of his neck. The deep, black wig tickled her cheeks softly, but they did not deter her. Casually, Evey placed a soft trail of kisses along V's defined jaw bone, stirring up a powerful desire inside him. Just that simple touch left V breathless, and almost caused him to crumble and kiss Evey again.

V resisted, however, feeling that the moment after their kiss was just as sweet as the kiss itself. He could still taste Evey's soft, malleable lips on his tough, scarred ones. The familiar volts of electricity were still coursing through his veins, making him feel alive with excitement. V couldn't recall ever feeling this euphoric, except for after their first kiss. Evey's simple acceptance eased his worries, and each soft peck along his neck dealt a harsh blow to the snarling voice in the dark recesses of his mind. V could feel it weakening, day by day.

Despite this, V was growing nervous. Evey could feel him start to fidget slightly, and she knew that he was uncomfortable about having the mask off for so long, especially in the light. She did not dare open her eyes, but she knew that V was undoubtedly staring at the mask, willing it back onto his face. Evey felt as though they had taken a huge step; this was an incredible show of trust, which she knew that they were continuing to build.

"It's alright V," Evey whispered, nudging her head towards where she thought the mask ought to be.

V let out a quiet sigh of relief; even with her eyes closed, Evey was perceptive. And as usual, she was also caring and empathetic. V reached out slowly, trying not to disturb the lady while she rested atop him. He secured the mask quickly, with a practiced set of movements. Even without a mirror, V could restore the mask to the proper alignment almost perfectly each time.

"Can I open my eyes now?"

V chuckled, "Yes love, you can."

Her arresting hazel eyes suddenly peeped out behind her long lashes, causing V to catch his breath once again. The smile in her eyes was almost as bright as the one that graced her supple lips, and V was almost tempted to have her close her eyes once again so he could kiss her. But he restrained himself; he could feel the exhaustion seeping into Evey's muscles.

As if on cue, Evey let out a soft yawn. V had noticed her trying to subdue it out of the corner of his eye, but she failed miserably. V tilted the mask down to look at Evey, who was now staring back up at him with a pout.

"Alright, I don't want to argue. I'll go to bed." Evey sighed, slightly surprising V. He had expected her to put up far more of a fight than that.

"You stole the words right out from under me, Evey." V chuckled as he assisted her in getting up. Evey stretched, and let out another yawn before she gathered her teacup and saucer to carry them into the kitchen. She returned to the living room quickly, and took V's hand in hers.

As usual, Evey was quick to curl under the blankets, patiently waiting while V removed his boots. Once V situated himself on his side of the bed, Evey quickly nestled into the warmth of his side. After a few minutes, they were both situated comfortably; Evey curled into V, while V had his arm wound protectively around his dear Evey.

After resting in companionable silence for several minutes, V suddenly spoke.

"Evey?"

Evey sat up to look at V, a look of concern in her eyes, "Yes, V?"

"I know that you said that your attack has not fazed you…" V began.

"It didn't, V." Evey cut him off. She was not interested in being pestered about being "Ok". She got enough of that from Finch and every other person she worked with.

"I understand that, Evey. But perhaps you wouldn't be opposed to learning some self defense. It would greatly ease my own personal worries, although I know you to be a competent woman." V added, hoping he wasn't coming off as condescending.

Evey considered this for a moment. Having some knowledge of self-defense beyond her can of pepper spray probably would serve her well in the future. At any rate, she didn't seem to have much success with the pepper spray.

"I think that's a good idea, V. I do seem to have a propensity for attracting trouble," Evey smirked.

V laughed outright, "That you do, Evey. That you do."

Evey settled herself next to V once again before smiling coyly up at him. V looked down at her, hiding a bemused smile beneath the mask. He was already anticipating her playful reply.

"Now if only I knew an incredibly skilled, fearless, self-defense instructor." She quipped, nudging V playfully.

"Oh, I'm sure with time, you'll think of someone."

**A/****N**

**Alrighty kiddos, I hope you enjoyed that. I was pretty please over all, because this was mainly supposed to be a filler sort of a thing, but I'm really pleased with the character development that went on in here. It really took me by surprise. (This is actually my personal inner dialogue while I write this fic. Like, do I make him kill the guy or not? What do I doooooo?) So, happy with how it turned out. **

**So, important news flash. I realized after re-reading my plan for this story that the ending was just terribly thought out. The timing was bad, and I just wasn't liking how it was gonna turn out. And I also started getting more ideas. And I am in love with this universe I have created, and doing something outside of it just might break my heart. So really, what I'm saying, is that the updates might be slow because I actually need to re-write the entire ending. Also, if you have some ideas, I'm up for that. No guarantees. **

** AAAAAAND Shout outs! **

**First of all, a shout out to ALL of my reviewers, because you helped the reviews break the 100 mark! Woohooo! **

**On that note, Guest reviewer of chapter 2? YOU were lucky number 100, but, you don't have an account, so...no proper shout out. Sorry bud. **

** Guest reviewer of chapter 20. Oh stop it you! *bashful face* Thanks so much, that means a lot. **

** crzybookluvrchick4017 I'm glad I don't write like a two year old monkey :D Thanks so much! **

** Kryital, as always your review was so sweet. Thank you! **

** Klaroline23 Oh thank you so much for all of your sweet reviews. ALL of them :) **

**Like I said, if I could shout out to each and every one of you, I would because I love you all so much. **

**And hey, I know this is going to sound petty. But could somebody please show chapter 3 a little love? Its the only chapter without a review and it makes my OCD go crazy. (I don't have ocd) **

**R&R my sweets, until next time! (Spring break in two weeks, don't count on any updates since I'm traveling.) **


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Evey's eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for any sort of escape, but she was blocked at every turn. She tried once again to duck around the dark mass that kept her back, but was met by a solid set of strong arms. Evey was thrust against the wall, and pinned forcefully against it by her attacker's forearm. In his other hand, he wielded a long, steel blade. The assailant expertly twirled it in his fingers, causing it to catch the light and glint wickedly at Evey.

She struggled; but her adrenaline was coursing through her veins, making it hard for her to think clearly. Evey had been instructed on what to do in this situation, but her instincts were blinding her and fogging her mind. She had no idea what she was supposed to be doing; so, she simply squirmed underneath the incredible strength of her foe, trying to break free.

Suddenly, the overwhelming strength in the man's arms faltered, and Evey was released. She sucked in a sharp breath, grateful to be breathing once again. The knife was sheathed, and Evey heard a sigh from the man in front of her.

"Evey, you cannot hesitate like that. Had I been a real attacker, you would certainly be dead by now." V sighed again, helping Evey to her feet.

After the most recent attempt on Evey's life, Evey and V had set into training the very next day. After a hearty breakfast, V began instructing Evey on the basics of self-defense. They had initially started out with very simple blocks, but by mid-morning they began to progress their way towards more offensive moves. After lunch, V had decided that Evey had progressed well enough to move from the dummies to a more hands on approach.

It didn't come as a shock to V that Evey had approached this with a fierce tenacity. She was a quick learner, and V was pleased with the progress she had made in just a single day. However, it was now, when V had simulated a full on attack, that Evey had seemingly hit a roadblock.

V had begun the live-action practice by slowly, deliberately aiming his blows towards Evey in a very controlled setting. They were repetitive and far from aggressive, and Evey knew exactly what to expect each time. At that point, V was only concerned with correcting Evey's form, and ensuring that she began to develop some sort of muscle memory. After increasing the pace of these drills, both V and Evey grew more confident in her budding skills. It was when she was easily able to deflect him with consistency that V thought she might be ready for something more challenging.

He had explained to Evey that they would reenact the night she had been walking down the alley. The training room was certainly large enough for this drill, and it offered increased maneuverability. V had sent Evey out of the room for a few moments so that he could prepare. First and foremost, he had dimmed the lights slightly, to simulate the dimly lit alley. Then, he secluded himself in the shadows, waiting for Evey to enter the room.

Evey had walked into the room, suddenly on edge seeing it plunged into darkness; she knew that this gave V another huge advantage. It felt as though she was walking on pins and needles, waiting for V to leap out from wherever he was hiding. She was incredibly on edge, so when V finally did leap out at her, she completely lost her wits.

V was remarkably careful during this exercise; he never wanted to hurt Evey, but he still made sure to put enough force behind his attack to make it believable. However, he had not been counting on Evey being so out of sorts. When he had finally stepped out behind her, she wheeled, and did nothing except back away from him. In a different scenario, this would have broken his heart; even then it did sting slightly to see her recoil at his approach in such a manner. But he knew why; her adrenaline was racing, and she was not used to being in such a situation. It was when he had pinned her to the wall that V realized Evey would not be able to escape him, and had no recollection of her training. It was after this first initial exercise that Evey's training had come to a grinding halt.

Evey sighed, breaking V from his thoughts. "I know, V, I know. I don't know what happened. I just…"

"Panicked?" V supplied.

"Yes, panicked," Evey replied with a puff of frustration. "I don't know why, though. It's not like I haven't been in life or death situations before."

"In a moment of panic, your adrenaline will kick in. You will feel the fight or flight response; however, it will take much longer for your instincts to also recall this self-defense. In the beginning, many resort back to their old habits, as though they had never learned anything." V explained.

Evey let out another sigh, and pursed her lips. She had felt that she was progressing very well with her training. Even V had commented on it during their lunch break. This had given her enough confidence to concede to V's idea of a simulation fight; but now? Evey wondered if she actually was ready. She was frustrated at the sudden impediment; after all, she was fearless Evey Hammond! She was the princess of the revolution. This should not have fazed her. However, despite this growing doubt, Evey was not the kind of person to easily give in when things got difficult.

"Can we try that again? I think a second time might help me," Evey suggested. "Just hide differently, so I'm not expecting you from the same place."

"As you wish, love," V smiled beneath the mask at Evey's determination. He watched her go, and then he ducked into the shadows once again.

For the second time, Evey emerged into the training room. V noted the subtle changes in demeanor; she stood straighter, and was far less fidgety. She was markedly more confident, V could tell, but he saw the faint tendrils of anxiety wrapping around her. The curling and uncurling of her fingers was a dead giveaway that she was uncomfortable, and V could faintly see her chewing on the inside of her cheek. Now was the time to strike.

This time, V strode out casually in front of her, watching her eyes flash in the darkness. Evey immediately took a step back, but seemed to steady herself before retreating entirely. She moved into a defensive position, hands at the ready. V nodded his approval. He was very pleased to see her actually check herself, and rein in her adrenaline instead of reacting in panic. Now, he would see if it would continue.

V reached out to grab Evey, but when he grabbed hold of her arm, she managed to break his grip using the technique he had shown her earlier.

"Very good," V said, satisfied. "But we aren't through."

Now, V began the same tactic he had tried last time. Using simply his large stature and imposing persona, he began to back Evey against the wall. Now, V saw the confidence drain from her eyes. This was where she faltered; getting backed into a tight spot, where she felt trapped. Knowing this, V pressed on, hoping to help Evey overcome this obstacle to her training.

As she did last time, Evey reached a mental blockage once V began to corner her. The adrenaline was coursing too fast, making it too difficult to focus on anything other than _run_. Once again, V pinned Evey to the wall, causing her to struggle against him. V saw the fight drain from her eyes, and saw it replaced by a look of panic.

V sighed, and once again, released Evey. The moment he did this, Evey let out a frustrated growl, taking V slightly by surprise.

"What am I missing V?" Evey sighed in exasperation. "Why do I keep panicking?"

V shrugged, "Perhaps you should tell me, Evey. Are there flashbacks accompanying this exercise? Bad memories, brought to the surface?"

Evey considered this for a moment, but really didn't think that that was really the underlying issue. What really caused her to panic was being cornered, and feeling like she had no room to escape or fight back. Evey had never considered the fact that she could be claustrophobic. She explained this much to V.

"This is a reasonable fear, Evey. However, in order to prevent it, you must fight back." V explained. "You cannot allow yourself to be placed where you feel most vulnerable."

"V, you realize that you're quite a bit larger than I am." Evey said with a soft smile. This earned her a chuckle from the masked man.

"Although you are not big, or particularly strong, you make up for that with speed and cunning. For you, the best advantage you have is the element of surprise." V offered.

Evey was about to protest, saying that V would certainly see through any surprised she threw at him. But, she held her tongue, and suggested that they try once again. V bowed his head, and motioned for Evey to exit the training room once again. He hid himself for a third time, and then waited.

For the third time, Evey walked into the room, and once again, she seemed to be calmer than the previous attempt. Still, her eyes scanned the room, trying to see through the darkness and find her assailant.

V silently melted out of the shadows, creeping behind Evey as though he were no more than ghost. She still had no idea of his presence as V continued to inch closer and closer to her. Finally, when V was close enough to Evey, he swiftly reached out and ensnared her in a powerful grip.

Evey yelped in surprise, and was initially overwhelmed with adrenaline. For the first few seconds, she found it utterly impossible to think clearly; however, Evey forced herself to take a deep breath, and logic found her once again. She recalled V teaching her how to escape this kind of attack earlier that morning, and then put it into practice. Using her elbow, which V told her was the strongest point in the body, Evey was able to slam V's ribs with enough force to loosen his grip. This allowed her enough room to wiggle out of his strong hold.

V actually was quite surprised at the power behind Evey's blow, although it caused him little pain. V took a step back to observe Evey's next move; he was impressed that she had made it this far, but he did not know how much longer it would last. Evey was facing him now, and he watched with a proud smirk as she purposely positioned herself _away_ from the corner, and towards the center of the room. But V had had enough of watching her; now, it was time for action.

Holding his full strength back, V let his fist fly. He was pleased that Evey parried this blow, and appeared ready for the next. This time, however, V began by sweeping to the side, trying to force Evey into the corner once again. A flash of recognition went through Evey's eyes, and she tried to reposition herself, but V was too fast. As she continued to try and reposition herself, Evey soon found that V was actually using this to his advantage, and she was now inching dangerously close to the corner.

Finally, after seeing that he had Evey right where he wanted, V moved to pin her for a third time. However, just as V stepped forward, Evey seemed to lose her footing, and she fell to the ground. In addition to her cry of pain, V heard a large thud, and he was instantly concerned that Evey had hit her head. Although she had healed from her concussion, the doctors had warned her to be more careful, as another severe head injury could be traumatic.

"Evey, are you alright?" V asked, instantly dropping his guard to assist her.

Evey, who was lying on the ground with a grimace, nodded slowly, "I think I may have hit my head when I fell…I feel a bit dizzy."

V's worst fears were confirmed, and he instantly regretted pushing Evey past her boundaries. He should have known that something like this would have happened! As V helped Evey slowly to her feet, he was mentally kicking himself for being so ignorant. Now, he could only hope that there wasn't any severe damage.

"My most sincere apologies, Evey, I should not have taken things so far when you are so inexperienced." V apologized, guilt and anguish filling his voice. Evey smiled softly at him, trying to put his mind at ease.

"You warned me not to get backed into the corner, didn't you? It's alright, V." Evey soothed as she supported herself against V's side. She kept a very strong grip on his arm, trying to keep her balance.

"Why don't we go sit down, and-" V suddenly let out a surprised yelp, and he found himself pressed quite forcefully to the wall of the training room. "Evey, what _are_ you doing?"

V tried to turn and look at Evey, but was met by a sharp pain in his shoulder. He realized that Evey had his arm twisted behind his back, making it difficult for him to maneuver against her. V let out a laugh of disbelief. She had _tricked_ him?

"You said that the element of surprise was my best weapon, did you not?" Although V could not see her face, he could actually hear the smirk that graced it.

"My dear, you realize that your tactic, while clever, would never work on a man who had a real intention to harm you? Truly, it would only aid his attack," V reasoned, while still being forced against the wall.

"But it worked on you, didn't it?" Evey replied with a soft giggle. She was quite surprised that V had actually fallen for her trick; she had suspected that he would easily catch on to her ruse.

"Yes, it certainly did. But may I ask what you would have done had it not worked?" V queried, trying to turn around to face Evey. As with the last time, he was stopped, and V rolled his eyes.

Evey faltered slightly. V made a valid point. She had been counting entirely on this plan, and she had not stopped to consider a secondary plan. However, Evey only considered this for a moment, before she decided that in the moment, it hardly mattered.

"Perhaps I did have a second plan, and perhaps I didn't. But either way, I had no need for it." Evey then leaned in close to V's ear and whispered, "I won."

Although Evey had bested him, and V had allowed her to enjoy the moment, he could not allow this to continue. He easily twisted out of Evey's hold, using a move he had not yet taught her. And now V turned, placing his hands on either side of her, effectively pinning Evey to the wall again. This time, however, V's move was decisively amorous as opposed to aggressive.

"Have you, love?" V teased.

Evey let out a soft trill of laughter, and flashed V an impish smile, "You're not a very good instructor, V."

Behind the mask, V raised his eyebrows questioningly. Before he had a chance to respond, Evey continued.

"Why on earth would I ever want to escape this?" Evey laughed again as she wrapped her hands around V's neck. V let out a deep, rumbling chuckle.

"And what, pray tell, ever gave you the impression that I would _want_ you to?" V purred, shocking himself at how forward he was becoming with Evey. He was slowly learning that Evey certainly didn't seem to mind it in the slightest.

V reached over then to shut off the lights completely, and submerged the training room into absolute darkness. He could feel Evey's heart rate quicken slightly and her grip on him tighten; he wasn't sure if it was because of being surrounded by darkness, or in anticipation. Perhaps it was both.

It still wasn't easy for V to willingly remove the mask in front of Evey. The mental block that had rested in his mind for twenty years was difficult to break down. His hands still trembled slightly, and the snarling monster in the back of his mind was quick to remind him what was at stake. But V was growing more confident each time, especially with the knowledge of his reward for doing so.

Slowly, V removed the mask and felt the cool rush of air kiss his marred flesh. His breathing was no longer impeded, and as a force of habit, he took in a large breath of air. It was cool, and was filled with Evey's sweet scent, driving him absolutely mad. The moment V set the mask aside, he felt Evey's hands alight on his face.

V found it quite peculiar, although endearing, that the first thing Evey always did was run the tip of her fingers along his bottom lip, feeling the breath escape them. He delighted in seeing the corners of her lips curl into the sweetest of smiles when she did this, and he always felt her own breath quicken.

They were becoming used to each other all over again. Now, like all of her other practiced shows of affection, these real, flesh and blood kisses were becoming familiar and comfortable. When V bent down to capture Evey's lips in his, they met with far more confidence than ever before. Evey eagerly met him, pulling him closer to her. They were not tentative and nervous; however, the passion and love shared in the embrace had not dwindled in the slightest. If anything, it had only grown.

With Evey's hands wrapped tightly around his neck, V wound his fingers into Evey's mess of curly hair, pulling her closer. Surprising himself, V gently traced Evey's bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. She immediately granted him entrance, thus deepening the kiss.

When they finally broke apart for air, Evey let out a breathy laugh. V used this brief moment of respite as an opportunity to explore foreign territory. Starting on Evey's jaw, V began to work his way slowly down to the base of her neck, leaving tender kisses in his wake. This elicited a soft moan from Evey, which only brought a broad smile to V's face and encouraged him even more. He could feel Evey's soft, sensitive skin reacting to his own; it tingled slightly, and he could feel a deep heat crawling up her neck. V delighted in feeling Evey react in such an involuntary way.

Finally losing patience at being teased so egregiously, Evey coaxed V's face back to her own so that she could kiss him properly. V removed his hands from Evey's face, only so that he could position them on her hips. He could feel the smile on Evey's lips as he continued to caress her lovingly.

Instincts V didn't know he possessed began to take over, leaving him absolutely helpless. Before he could even consider stopping himself, his leather clad hands slipped under Evey's thin cotton t-shirt. This earned him a slight gasp of excitement from Evey, who only pulled him closer. As V's hands began to inch higher, working tantalizingly slow, Evey suddenly paused, and V was immediately concerned he had offended her.

"Evey…" V began, an apology already forming on his lips. Evey could feel the sudden tension inside of him, along with the sudden retreat of his hands. She quickly put an end to that by gently trapping V's hands in hers and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"No gloves. Please?" Was all she was able to breathe out before planting a trail of soft kisses on V's jaw.

V could hardly imagine that the texture of his skin was even close to desirable, but Evey's pleading tone made it hard for him to deny her. And the fact that she had actually requested it made it far easier for V to silence the dark presence in the back of his mind. The gloves were quickly shed and discarded. At this point, V had grown very comfortable with showing Evey his hands and even allowing her to hold his bare hands. However, this was an entirely new experience for them both, and it made V all the more nervous.

When he rested his hands on Evey's hips once again, it was with far more hesitation. But the feeling of Evey's soft, pale skin under his scarred palms made the anxiety entirely worth it. Evey let out a pleasurable sigh once V's hands made contact. Her silken skin contrasted his scarred flesh so sharply, yet at the same time, seemed to fit so perfectly with it. Evey could hardly imagine any other hands touching her.

Along with the softness of Evey's skin, V was now able to feel Evey's skin reacting to his touch. Underneath his hand, it felt as though Evey was pulsing with electricity. Her skin tingled at his touch, and her muscles were coiled tightly. It was almost akin to holding a live wire in his hands.

For her own part, Evey had never felt anything more wonderful than V's hands on her skin. The texture was unlike anything she had ever felt; though his hands were indeed rough, they held their own unique tenderness. Another thing that thrilled Evey was how incredibly warm V's skin always was. She assumed that it had something to do with the lingering virus coursing through his veins. But feeling the pulsating warmth of his hands on her cool skin was purely exhilarating. Evey could hardly contain her euphoria; this was an incredible step for them both.

Before V could stop himself, or even consider stopping himself, he finally just slipped Evey's thin cotton t-shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. She did not protest in the slightest; she only removed her hands from him for a brief moment in order to assist him, and then her hands and lips returned to V's. V continued to caress Evey's supple skin, working his way higher and higher.

Evey's own impulses began to come to the surface, and Evey soon found herself unwrapping her hands from behind V's neck in order to rest them on his chest. It was a request more than it was a simple motion; V could sense the desire coursing from her finger tips. And while he desperately wanted to give Evey what she so craved, V couldn't bring himself to do it. He paused; Evey's lips were mere centimeters from his and his hands rested impatiently on her creamy skin.

"Evey, please…" He breathed heavily. All V wanted to do was try and return what Evey had so graciously given to him; but now, the wicked voice in the back of his mind began snarling at him. _Remember what a monster you are, and what you're trying to hide from her. She'll run the moment you remind her,_ it seemed to hiss in his ear, making his head spin.

Keeping one hand on his chest, Evey raised her other hand to gently caress V's marred cheek. She gently traced a particularly deep ridge, trying to convey as much devotion as she possibly should could into her touch. Evey knew that his demons must be whispering to him now, trying to steal away his confidence. She would not let them win; not without a fight.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Evey purred, placing a tender peck on V's chin. "Because I do. I love you so much."

"You must understand that all I want is to be with you, Evey. But I just…I _can't_." V began, struggling for words. "I know that you won't wait forever."

"V, will you stop with that waiting nonsense? I've told you before that I'll wait for as long as it takes. I would wait for a lifetime if it meant being with you." Evey asserted. She sealed her promise with another soft kiss, this time on V's jaw line.

V let out a sigh. It was so difficult for him to accept all of this; it was so new to him, and it challenged every part of him. Ever since Evey had come back into his life, he felt as though they had been trapped in a never ending circle. It was always one step forward, two steps back. V took a deep breath.

Perhaps it was time to take an extra step forward.

To him, it seemed as though Evey had been graced with never ending patience and compassion. For the longest time it had seemed to him that all of the effort had been entirely one sided, although Evey would adamantly deny this. She would say that he was always trying, and he was, but not nearly to the extent that she was. V wanted to prove to her that while it would take time, he would make a strong effort to be with her.

Slowly, V removed his hands from Evey's soft skin, leaving a glaring absence of warmth where they had been. Evey squirmed slightly at the sudden chill. V then moved his hands to his chest and unbuttoned his shirt with trembling hands, revealing his second skin of lyrca fabric. Once the last button had been taken care of, V gently took Evey's hand in his and placed it at the hem of his undershirt near his hip, allowing Evey to make the next move if she should desire.

Evey took a deep breath, steadying her rapidly beating heart, and then eased the hem of V's shirt up ever so slightly, just so she could slip her hands underneath. Once there, her breath immediately hitched in her throat. Not from revulsion; never from that. Her breath was stolen simply from _feeling_ him. His skin here was, like his face, smoother in some places than others. Deep ridges could still easily be found, although Evey found it suddenly difficult to discern those from the lines of V's well defined musculature. While the skin was indeed tough, it contained a deeper quality of softness that only Evey could appreciate. Like his hands and face, V's torso radiated an incredible heat that warmed Evey to her very core. Evey sighed contentedly, not realizing she had been holding her breath.

V had been watching Evey's reaction carefully in the darkness. He had seen the eagerness on Evey's face, along with the sudden inhalation of breath. Initially, V was terrified that Evey had finally realized that she couldn't stand him, but once a broad smile lit up her features, V relaxed slightly.

The tension in V's muscles was still very obvious; more so now that Evey could feel it so directly. She was shocked at how much V's clothes seemed to block this sensation. Feeling his muscles contract and relax without the buffer of clothing was incredible, and Evey could truly appreciate the immense strength that was hidden in his physique.

The other benefit to such close contact was the electricity that seemed to course between the two. It was the same feeling that was coupled with each tender kiss they shared; only now, it was able to spread. Both V and Evey had never experienced anything like it, and doubted that they wanted to feel anything else.

After a few more moments of exploring V's chest, Evey reached up on her tip toes and placed a delicate kiss on his lips. Then, she wrapped her arms more securely around V's torso and rested her head on V's chest.

"Tell me, do you know of any way to fend off these sorts of attacks?" Evey asked playfully.

V chuckled before planting a small peck on the crown of Evey's head and stroking her soft curls.

"Even if I did, I certainly wouldn't tell you."

**A/N**

**Hope you lovelies enjoyed that, I'm sorry for the wait. I'm preparing to take the ACT and all that nonsense. That coupled with some major writers block adds up to some poor writing juices. Also, some of this got deleted so I had to rewrite it. Ugggh. **

**As mentioned earlier, I have decided to take the ending of this in a very different direction, so this will be quite a few chapters longer. The next few chapters will be revolution-centric, as a heads up. **

**R&R, it means a lot :)**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

It was New Years Eve in London. The day had been highly anticipated for months, and the city was ramping into high gear to make preparations. The city had almost shut down entirely to commemorate the day. Most people had the day off of work, and were milling about the city, proudly sporting their Guy Fawkes masks and hats.

Today, the election results were to be announced, and the following day, the new government would be implemented. There was a fireworks display set at the former site of parliament, both to commemorate the New Year and the country's new found freedom. The entire nation was pulsating with excitement.

There had been several options on the ballot on the fifth: making the current, interim administration the permanent fixture, a more classical monarchy, a system of democracy like the old United States. Some other options had been written in, but had not received many votes. But no matter the result, it would be one of the people's choosing, and that was all that mattered.

All across the country, the citizens were rejoicing. After today, they would finally take the final step of shedding the shackles Norsefire had bound them in, and begin walking down their own path. Thousands were gathering at the former site of parliament to hear the results, as well as speeches from Prime Minister Finch and their beloved Princess of the Revolution, Evey Hammond.

* * *

Unlike most mornings, Evey Hammond was actually wide awake well before six. She had had trouble sleeping that night; the nerves and excitement had kept her up well past her bed time, and despite V's attempts to help her sleep, she tossed and turned the entire night.

Despite being up earlier than usual, V was still awake well before Evey was, and had breakfast already prepared for her when she woke. He had prepared her favorite eggy-in-a-basket, but had also provided some fruit, yogurt, and tea, in order to provide a more balanced breakfast.

"Morning, V." Evey entered the kitchen, all traces of sleepiness gone. She smiled warmly at V, who was seated at the kitchen table with a newspaper spread out before him. Evey walked around the table and placed a peck on the cheek of the mask before moving to the stove to prepare a cup of tea.

"'_England Prevails: Election Results Announced Today'," _V read the headline from that morning's paper. "'_Princess of the Revolution, Evey Hammond, expected to speak for the occasion at the former site of Parliament." _

Evey glanced over her shoulder to see V holding up the paper for her to see. Her picture was there, along with Eric Finch's, in addition to a snapshot taken from V's first address. They had all been stitched together on a background of explosions and fireworks, undoubtedly from the destruction of parliament. She had seen previews of most of the front page stories going out, but she must have missed this one. Evey nodded her head in approval.

"I hadn't seen that one yet, but I think it's my favorite." Evey said as she set her tea cup down on the table. She grabbed a bright, ripe grapefruit from the center of the table and moved to the counter top, selecting one of V's kitchen knives. V set the paper down, and watched Evey work at the counter. He loved the ease their morning routines had gained.

"Why is that?" He asked, curious to know why this one in particular had beaten out the others.

V watched as Evey placed her grapefruit onto a cutting board, and swiftly sliced it in half. She shrugged, placed the dirty knife and cutting board in the sink, and brought her prize with her to the table before sitting down.

"I like that they turned that hideous old party slogan around. 'England Prevails'. I never really liked that, because I didn't think that Sutler or anyone actually had the right to say it. But now, the people can take it back. England _can_ prevail, and it has." Evey took a sip of her tea.

Behind the mask, V smiled and nodded thoughtfully before adding, "As I've often said, words will always retain their power. It's important that the _people_ now hold this power again."

Evey nodded, before looking up at V with a smirk.

"The picture is nice too," Evey winked, before taking a bite of her eggy-in-a-basket. V laughed softly before turning his attention back to the paper.

* * *

Never in his life had Eric Finch imagined that this revolution would ever happen. He had always been so sure that Norsefire would live on for generations to come. He saw no end to their reign. Granted, this had been his viewpoint while he was still a party member, and still Head Inspector. His job had been to defend the government, and to follow orders, no matter what. He had believed in Norsefire, and in Sutler. But things had changed.

After V had destroyed the Old Bailey, Finch had still been relatively confident in his beliefs and in the party. But after hearing V speak, a seed of doubt had been planted into his mind. And as the investigation progressed, the seed began to grow. The murders, Larkhill, William Rockwood, the shipment of masks; they all watered the seed, nourished it. For a while, Finch wasn't sure what to believe. Then, that fateful night on the train platform, Evey Hammond had pushed him over the edge he was so precariously balanced on. All it took was her simple refusal to give in. She and V had helped him see the truth.

And now what did he have to show for it? Eric Finch, former Head Inspector, was now Prime Minister of England. That was something that still caught him off guard sometimes. He would be walking into his office, and someone would address him as Prime Minister Finch, or he would see his face plastered on the front pages with that same title smacked onto it. Every time he was addressed as the Prime Minister, he would often pause. It never ceased to amaze him that his life had taken such a turn of events.

Of course, it might all end today. In the past few weeks, Eric Finch had stopped to consider that he might no longer be the Prime Minister of England. Initially, he probably would have been relieved about this proposition, but now, he wasn't so sure if that was the case. He felt a sense of obligation to be in this position; he couldn't imagine his life without aiding the revolution and his country.

Eric glanced at the clock; there were several hours until he had to be at the podium to make his own speech, but he and Evey were expected to have lunch with several important officials and leaders from other countries. He should probably start getting ready if he wanted to be on time. Rising from his seat, Finch turned off the tele and began making his preparations for a historic day.

* * *

"Gordon, would you _please_ hurry up in there? Our lunch reservations are in half an hour!" Philip whined, knocking on their bedroom door. He heard no response, and was about to knock again when the door was suddenly flung open, revealing the room's inhabitant: Gordon Deitrich, looking dapper and suave as ever.

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, Philip. We'll make it in time." Gordon smiled charmingly at his beau. He held up two neck ties that he couldn't decide between. Both were shades of red, and had different patterns. Philip quickly pointed to the darker of the two, which had an attractive diamond pattern.

Gordon took in the tall man standing before him as he secured his neck tie. Philip was a handsome man; his dark hair was beginning to gray slightly, giving him an air of wisdom and distinction. Although his face was twisted into a look of annoyance, a soft smile still played at the corner of his lips, revealing that he wasn't all that angry. His laughing green eyes twinkled, full of warmth and depth.

"Why are you giving me that look?" Philip asked suddenly, breaking Gordon from his thoughts.

"What look? There's no look!" Gordon placed his hand over his mouth, feigning both innocence and indignation.

Philip shook his head, "Gordon, I've known you long enough to know when you're giving me a _look_."

This elicited a hearty laugh from the showman, who now strode out their bedroom, closing the door behind him. Philip rolled his eyes, but followed behind none the less.

"That is exactly why I'm giving you a look." Gordon turned over his shoulder to watch in amusement as Philip crinkled his brow in confusion.

"I don't catch your meaning."

"The fact that we actually are able to know each other for so long; _that _is why I'm giving you a look. The fact that I'm actually _able_ to give you a look, and that you're able to recognize when I'm giving you a look," Gordon explained. "It wasn't that long ago when our relationship would not have been allowed to exist. We would have been killed."

Philip smiled softly then, putting his arm around Gordon. He understood exactly how Gordon was feeling; he had been overwhelmed with those thoughts for the past several days. The world they were living in had changed drastically in such a short period of time, and they had their revolutionary V and his accomplice Evey to thank for that.

"Imagine it, Gordon. We're about to openly go out on a lunch date. Two years ago, we certainly would have been black bagged for this," Philip continued, "In fact, you might not have even been alive for this lunch date in the first place."

Gordon nodded solemnly, "Yes, we all owe V quite a debt of gratitude for all that he has done for us."

"Let's not forget our darling Princess, Evey." Philip winked, nudging Gordon in the side. "She is just as instrumental to our freedom as V is."

"She most certainly is. I couldn't imagine a more perfect person to act as the voice of this revolution. She'll be wonderful today." Gordon smiled proudly, thinking about the young woman.

While working under him at the BTN, Gordon had always suspected that there was more to Evey than the timid girl she appeared to be. While at work, she was almost always soft-spoken, but he would occasionally hear her make a remark that showed the true character that lurked underneath her fragile shell. Although he knew this, Gordon had never expected to see her lead an entire country through a revolution. He had never expected her to give vitriolic speeches against terrorist cells, or survive multiple attempts on her life and still keep moving forward. She had become the very embodiment of courage and strength that the people of England could lean on during these trying times, and rejoice with during times of triumph. Gordon could not have been more proud.

"Hello, earth to Gordon!" Philip snapped, shaking Gordon out of his reverie.

"Sorry, what were you saying dear?"

"I said, let's go. I wasn't joking when I said our reservations were in half an hour. Do you know how difficult it is to get reservations at this place, Gordon? I don't want to lose our table." Philip said, turning to grab his coat along with Gordon's off of the coat rack. He slipped his coat on, and then helped Gordon into his.

Gordon smiled in thanks at his partner, and then held the door open for him. Once outside, the pair walked hand in hand towards the car, both relishing in their simple ability to do so.

* * *

Evey made one final dash through the Shadow Gallery, making sure that she had everything she needed and that she hadn't left anything crucial behind. V watched with a bemused smirk while he sat on the chaise. He had offered his assistance, but Evey had declined, saying that she didn't need any help.

Finally, Evey seemed to have everything she would need, and she made her way over to the coat rack. V stood and went to help her into her coat.

"Did you find everything you needed?" V asked, although he was fairly certain that Evey had conducted a very thorough search.

Evey pursed her lips, "I have everything I _need_ yes."

"But am I to assume you're missing something that you would _like_ to have?" V watched Evey, smiling. It was always amusing to see her so flustered, although he did wish to assist her. Evey just shook her head.

"It's nothing, really. Let's go," Evey said, reaching for the door. V stopped her, placing his hand over hers. Evey turned to look at him, and was met by the cold stare of Fawkes. However, Evey was able to feel the warmth of V's stare pouring from the eye screens.

"If it was nothing, you would not have searched so furtively for what you so desire." V pointed out. "What is it you were looking for?"

Evey sighed, "The domino."

"The domino?" V repeated, furrowing his brow.

"Yes, the domino. It was the one that left on the train. At the time, I wasn't really sure what it was doing there, but something deep inside of me told me that it was important. It took me a while to realize what it symbolized," Evey paused to smile gently. "So, I always have it with me when I make an address or a speech. Like a good luck charm, in a way. It helped me a lot while I thought that you were…well, you know."

This woman never ceased to surprise and amaze V. His heart swelled to think that she had understood his symbolism with the dominoes; more to know that she had used it to help her guide the revolution onwards. It was indeed just another domino falling down, in order to plow into the next. It never ended; they were always falling, even to this day.

"But, I remembered that I left it at my flat following last week's address," Evey shrugged. "That's alright. I'll have the next best thing."

"What would that be?"

Evey let out a soft peal of laughter, "You, of course. I think this is the first time you'll actually see me address the people in person."

"I do believe it is, love, and I am most excited. You'll be splendid," V assured.

"Well, we won't ever find out if I'll be splendid or not if I'm late. Come on," Evey exclaimed, glancing at her watch. She took V's hand in hers, and led the way out into the tunnels.

Lights flickered on as they walked, and then shut off behind them. V had installed this new feature once Evey's visits became more frequent. V wasn't concerned about Evey being afraid of the dark, and he certainly held no ill will towards the darkness; his biggest concern was that Evey would trip and hurt herself in the dark.

They walked at a brisk pace, as Evey's search for the domino had caused her to run slightly behind schedule. Evey's heels clicked sharply on the concrete, echoing down the long forgotten tunnels. The tunnels were silent aside from the pair's footfalls. So, Evey and V began to go over their plan for the day once more.

"Eric and I are meeting for lunch with some foreign dignitaries," Evey began, mentally pouring over the do-to list in her head. "After that, I have to rehearse the speech one more time at the office. After that, we'll make our way down to parliament, and give the speeches."

"And then?" V asked, making sure Evey remembered.

"I'll find you after the ceremony, and we'll watch the fireworks together. Aside from that, you haven't been very forthcoming with any details regarding _your_ part of the plan." Evey concluded, fishing for a hint on V's secret plans.

Tonight was a very special evening for the country and for them both; V wanted to find a perfect place to watch the fireworks display. This secret location had been driving her insane for the past few hours.

V chuckled, "You'll find out in due time, my dear. Patience."

"You know that isn't one of my strong suits," Evey laughed.

By now, the dark tunnels had given way to one of the abandoned stations. V helped Evey up onto the platform, and then walked to the door. Although it was not the most convenient location, this was one of their preferred stations; it was in a quiet neighborhood, and the entrance was well hidden. It was easy to get out of the tunnels unseen from this particular station.

Evey turned to V, "Wish me luck. I've got some foreign dignitaries to charm."

"Oh, I doubt you need any luck to work your charms, Evey. You need only worry about charming them _too_ much," V replied, only half joking with his last statement.

Evey rolled her eyes, "I'll just have to save some of my charms for you, won't I?"

Then, Evey wrapped her arms tightly around the revolutionary. It was because of this man that she had the chance to meet with these powerful men from all over Europe. It was because of this man that this country was free, and that today, they would be celebrating their freedom and their new government. This man never ceased to astound her and inspire her. He meant everything to her, and to this country.

"I'll see you after the ceremony, V." Evey whispered.

"You'll be absolutely wonderful Evey, I know it," V offered, being entirely truthful. Evey smiled up at him, and placed a quick peck on Guy Fawkes' lips before she opened the secret entrance to the station, and slipped out into the English afternoon.

* * *

It had been a very successful afternoon for Evey and Eric. They had eaten lunch with several important leaders from across the continent: the presidents of France and Germany, ambassadors from Spain and Holland, and the Prime Minister from Italy. The talks had initially been full of congratulations over the success of the revolution, questions about V and Evey's involvement, and how Eric Finch changed his ways. They shared pleasantries; the cold English winters, how the vineyards of France and Italy compared, and what kinds of confections came out of Holland. Then, after they had gotten all of the small talk out of the way, the conversation had taken a distinctly more diplomatic tone.

The main subject of these conversations was the alliances that England could forge now that they were no longer under a totalitarian regime. These leaders were very excited about the possibility of creating a new alliance now that Sutler was gone. They had also expressed an interest in helping England get back on its feet in regards to the economy and the military. Trade was a hot topic for a good portion of the meal; what could England begin to export once again? When would they start their importing? These were all valid questions, and many solutions had been put on the table. Both Evey and Eric were very excited about the prospect of working with these other nations, and they promised that no matter the outcome of the election, their relationships would move forward.

All parties involved had left the table in very high spirits. New friendships had been forged, along with new hope for the country's future. As they left, jokes were exchanged, smiles shared, and hands shook. Everyone called out a cheerful goodbye, saying that they would see each other at the speeches, and that they were most excited to hear the results.

Finally, once everyone had been taken to their personal car and escorted away, Evey turned to Finch.

"I'd say that was a success, wouldn't you?" Evey could hardly contain the radiant smile that lit up her face.

Eric Finch had to agree. He had been nervous about meeting all of these powerful figures, of course, but he was glad to have Evey by his side. She had easily won them over with her charm and sharp wit, and she had awed them with her fierce tenacity and dedication to the revolution. Due to her intimate connection with the masked vigilante, V, they had eaten up every word she said, fascinated by her insight to the revolution. Without her, Finch was certain he wouldn't have had nearly the amount of success that they did.

"It couldn't have gone any better. President Trapini was quite the character," Finch laughed. "No matter the results of the election, the relationships we just made will be extremely helpful."

Evey looked at the man standing before her; she hadn't realized it earlier, but a bit of worry plagued his features. She realized that he must be dreadfully nervous. In just a few hours, he would either be officially elected into power, or he would be taken out of office. Both of those contingencies were equally daunting, but Evey knew that Finch loved this job. He was just as dedicated as she was, and she was so grateful that she had found someone as passionate as him to lead the country through such turmoil.

"Eric, I'm sure that the people recognize what you've done for this country. Even if you aren't elected, which I doubt, you'll always be a part of this revolution. I know that you'll never stop working for the betterment of this country," Evey smiled, putting her hand on Eric's shoulder.

"Thank you, Evey. I've been a bit nervous about the elections; it's strange to think that when I'm finally getting used to being the Prime Minister, in a matter of hours, I could just be plain old Eric Finch once again."

Evey shook her head, "Don't be ridiculous. You're far more than 'plain old Eric Finch'. And besides, you have no reason to be nervous! Like I said, the people recognize what you've done for them. Do you remember that survey we took a few weeks ago on government satisfaction?"

Finch nodded.

"Well, your approval rating was through the roof, Eric."

"Remember what these people have to compare me to. I'm no Sutler, Evey, so by comparison I'm sure I'm doing a stellar job. But if none of that had happened? I'm not so sure where that rating would stand," Eric reasoned. He appreciated that Evey was trying to cheer him up. He wasn't even sure why he was being so down on himself in the first place. Perhaps it was just his nerves getting to him, he wasn't sure. Finch just hoped that Evey was right; he had come to love this job, and everything that came with it. He wasn't sure he wanted to do anything else.

"Eric please, you're just being modest. You've done wonderful work! Even if you're not elected Prime Minister, I'll always make sure you have some role in this government, even if it means working for me at the ECD." Evey promised.

Finch laughed at the prospect of working under Evey, "Well for my sake, let's hope that I do get reelected."

Evey punched Eric in the arm, shooting him a dirty look.

"Fine then, just for that, I might rig the election results so that you have no other choice but to work for me!" Evey threatened, although her façade of anger quickly crumbled, leaving her in a fit of laughter. Eric soon joined in, and the two stood outside the restaurant doubled over in laughter. They weren't really sure what was so funny, but it felt good to laugh. The weights they had been carrying for so long would be lightened just a little bit today.

"Come on, we should probably get to the office. We don't want to be late," Evey finally gasped, wiping a tear from her eye. Finch nodded, and the two quickly hailed a cab.

They were still chuckling as they made their way into the office.

* * *

Walking around the streets of London was something that V was quite accustomed to. He knew the streets and alleys like the back of his hand. However, walking the streets during broad daylight was something that V rarely, rarely took part in. But today was different. Since it was to be a celebration of the country's freedom, almost everyone was dressed in V's mantle. Just like on the fifth, this allowed V enough cover to walk about the streets of London undisturbed.

It was a surreal experience for V. Seeing copies of himself traipsing around the streets of London caused V to have countless double takes. People smiled and nodded at him, and some even said hello. V always politely returned the greeting, feeling a rush at the sheer _normalcy _of the moment. It was amazing to see the change that had swept over the city in waves since the fifth.

The streets, which used to be full of trash and grime, were clean once again. Those hideous propaganda posters had been taken down ages ago, and thanks to Evey's diligent work, had been replaced by works of art. It was the dead of winter, but V could feel the energy pulsating underneath him in the dormant roots of the trees and plants. The city was coming back to life.

This was his life's work. This was the endgame that he had been working tirelessly for. While walking down the streets of London, seeing people strolling about happily gave V pause. He was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions: happiness, pride, excitement, hope. Hope. That was something that V had only felt ever since he had saved Evey that fateful November the fourth; he had certainly felt a lot of it lately.

After a while, V noticed that he had somehow gravitated towards the St. Mary's memorial. He wandered into the small courtyard, shocked by how little it had changed, yet also how different it seemed. V hadn't been here in ages; not since he had been disguised, talking to Eric Finch and Dominic Stone. Back then, the air had been filled with a distinct chill. The entire place was eerie, and it had felt as though they were all trespassing on forbidden ground.

However, that had all changed. Now, the courtyard was welcoming and cheerful. People meandered in and out of the small park, while some people sat on the benches surrounding the statue. V saw an empty bench, and sat. It took him a moment to realize that it was the same exact bench he had been sitting on when he had been talking with Finch and Stone. Memories came flooding back, and V was suddenly inundated with them.

"_Rookwood! Why didn't you come forward before?" Finch paused. "What were you waiting for?" _

_V turned, "For you, Inspector. I needed you."_

And that statement was still true, to this day. The country needed Eric Finch; he had proven himself to be a dedicated, steadfast supporter of the revolution, and he had become a very capable Prime Minister. Both V and Evey had the utmost confidence in his ability to lead the country forward, and V had very high hopes for the man's reelection.

V stared at the statue of the playing children. While sitting here that cold night more than a year ago, V had tried to picture that one of the small boys was Evey's brother. Even now, V was trying to morph the unmoving faces into something that he thought would resemble Evey's brother. He wasn't sure why, but it somehow brought him solace to try and picture the young boy's smiling face. Perhaps it made his vendetta all the sweeter; after all, his more noble intentions involved righting the injustices against those killed from the virus that coursed through his veins. Long ago, when V had been riddled with hatred, he had aimed much of it at himself. He loathed the fact that his country's demise had been born from his own blood. Promising to avenge those killed at Larkhill, but also those killed because of the virus created there, had been one of V's driving forces.

It was a very pleasant afternoon for January. It was still quite cold, but the sun was out, bringing many people out with it. Before V even realized it, he had lost track of time. He had spent nearly an hour sitting peacefully on the park bench, watching people coming and going. Some stopped to look at the statues; many were dressed in their Guy Fawkes masks and were only passing through. V had been perfectly content to sit and people watch, and witness the progress the country had made first hand.

Finally, V had to stand and stretch the stiffness from his muscles. He had been sitting stock still for quite some time. V decided to continue his walk through the city, and begin to work his way towards parliament to hear the election results. He figured that he had roughly an hour and a half, which would be plenty of time for him to take a slight detour through the streets of London. Before he left, V turned one last time to stare at the ring of playing children. V nodded courteously at the monument, almost as though he were telling the children that he had been avenged at long last.

For the briefest of moments, V was almost certain that he had seen one of the small boys nod back at him.

* * *

Evey sat impatiently in her chair. She had been sitting there next to Finch, rigid, for the past half an hour while spectators flooded into the area directly in front of the stage. There was an excited hum reverberating through the crowd, and anticipation rolled off of the crowd in waves. It was a sea of black hats and pale white masks, almost making Evey dizzy. Evey scanned the crowd, looking for any familiar faces. Gordon and Philip were seated in one of the rows observed for esteemed guests, and when Evey caught their eyes they smiled and waved at her. Dominic Stone wasn't sitting that far away from them, but he was busy talking with someone Evey didn't recognize.

Really, Evey was looking for V, although she told herself that that would be impossible. From her vantage point on the stage, she wasn't close enough to pick out details that would lead her to the true revolutionary. Up close, Evey was certain that she would have had no trouble picking V out of a crowd. But at the moment, the entire audience looked exactly alike. Evey smiled softly. That had been V's intention, of course.

After what seemed like hours, the clock finally struck five o'clock. Although Big Ben was no longer around to single its arrival, somehow, the crowd seemed to sense that the moment had arrived, and fell silent. Evey saw this as her cue to stand, and moved to the podium.

Before she began, Evey reached into her coat pocket to pull out her notes for the speech. But instead of paper, Evey's fingertips met cool, smooth wood. Evey furrowed her brow slightly in confusion; she had been fairly certain that there was nothing else in her pocket. As Evey reached the podium, she pulled out her notes along with the mysterious object. She gasped, slightly, before her the corners of her lips curled up almost imperceptibly.

It was the domino.

At first, Evey had no idea how it had gotten into her coat pocket in the first place. She had thoroughly searched that very same pocket only hours before. But then, Evey's smile grew. This was V's work, she was certain of it. While he was passing the time before her speech, he must have gone to her flat to find it. How V was able to secretly slip it into her pocket was beyond her, but Evey would be sure to ask him later that evening.

Carefully, Evey placed her notes on the podium, along with the domino. She softly traced the domino's edge, feeling its smooth grain. The small domino had helped her through many of her hardest days; when she was missing V so terribly, it often provided great solace. It also helped her when she felt discouraged, such as when she discovered Melinda was a spy. It reminded her what she was fighting for. When things were going wrong, it also reminded her that it was only one event in a series of many.

Evey looked out over the pulsating throng of white masks and black cloaks before her. The people standing before her came from all walks of life, and all backgrounds. They had hopes, dreams, friends, families. Now, after years of oppression, despotism, and fear, they had officially taken the government back. Evey smiled as she took in the mass before her, took in a deep breath, and began.

"England, first and foremost, I want to congratulate you," Evey began. "And then, I want to say how proud I am of you. A year ago, our country was beginning to rebuild itself after we toppled the regime. Two years ago, the seed of change that V planted in our minds began to grow. And a year before that, we were all crippled with fear. We have come a long way."

A few cheers rose up from the crowd, but quickly died down as Evey continued to speak, "We have been free since the Fifth, a day that shall never, ever be forgot. But it is today that our freedom will be truly realized for the first time. We have rebuilt this great country after Sutler and the Norsefire regime left it in ruins. Know that it will never happen again; because we will not allow it to. We have proven that we are stronger than any tyranny, and that we will rise up to meet it if the need ever arises.

Wherever he is, V is looking down at the progress we have made with pride and euphoria. This was what he had been envisioning when he sparked the revolution at the Old Bailey. He wanted us to have our self-determination, and follow our own path. This is what we have done with the elections.

The dedication you all had for this election was remarkable. The town hall meetings we held yielded incredible results, and the ballot was truly representative of what you, the people, want. No matter the election results, this involvement will continue. It is crucial that you continue to speak out and let your voices be heard; they will not be silenced ever again.

As you all know, we took a lot of care assembling the ballot. We heard what you had to say, and we took everything into consideration when we put the top 6 choices on the ballot. Clearly, we could not have put everyone's ideas on it, but we tried to be as all-inclusive as we possibly could. At this point, it was up to you. Despite the shock of the attacks on the Fifth, you all remained strong and brave, for which I am unwaveringly proud of. You all braved the aftermath of a terrorist attack to cast your votes in what is to be a historic election.

Now, enough of that. It's time for the moment you've all been waiting for," Evey took a pause in her speech to watch as a pair of school children approached her, carrying a thick envelope. It was shimmering gold paper, adorned with an official wax seal. Evey smiled at the two children who handed it to her, and shook both of their hands. They smiled bashfully at her, and quickly scurried off stage.

When Evey turned to face the crowd once again, envelope in hand, she felt as though she could literally cut the tension in the air with a knife. It was as though every set of eyes in London was glued to the shining paper. Everyone, Evey included, waited on bated breath. The envelope itself seemed to weigh almost a hundred pounds, and Evey had to steady her hands before she could break the seal.

In her hands, Evey held the future of her country. This envelope contained the road the people would march down, forging their own destiny. It also contained the end results of V's revolution. _Their_ revolution. Evey had never held anything more important in her life.

With trembling hands, Evey carefully grasped the thick stationary and slid it slowly out of the envelope. Despite there being thousands of people before her, Evey was certain that in that moment, she could have heard a pin drop. The silence was deafening. Finally, Evey unfolded the paper with the utmost care. She cleared her throat softly, and read aloud:

"The people of England have elected to make the current, interim government a permanent fixture."

A tremendous cheer went up into the crowd. A few figures in the crowd were not as zealous as the others, but it was clear that not many were disappointed with the result. Evey turned to look at Eric Finch, who sat behind her, a look of shock written across his face. When he caught Evey's eye, a small smile of disbelief lit up his face. He stood and gave the people a small wave, earning another roar from the audience. In the front rows, Evey saw Philip and Gordon with enormous grins on their faces, and Dominic Stone was almost in tears he was so overjoyed.

And somewhere in the crowd, Evey knew there was a man behind a Guy Fawkes mask who was smiling just a bit broader than anyone else.

* * *

V had positioned himself towards the middle of the crowd, but he had made sure to stand closer to the edge. Although he knew that nobody stood a chance of knowing who he really was, being in such a large crowd went against his instincts.

His eyes never left Evey. V had watched her making small talk with Eric Finch to pass the time, all the while scanning the crowd. He figured that she must be trying to pick him out of the crowd, but he knew that they both understood the impossibility of that task. V had morphed seamlessly into the throng of people. The only discernible difference was in the quality of his dress and the array of knives tucked carefully under his cape, just in case.

When it was finally time to begin, V watched Evey like a hawk. He was waiting patiently for the moment he knew would surely come any second now. V saw Evey reach into her coat pocket, the one he knew her notes were kept in, and saw her hand pause for a moment. A look of confusion crossed Evey's face; it was so faint, and V was certain that only those close to Evey would have recognized it.

Then, what he had been waiting for. The look of recognition, and the softening of Evey's sharp features. A soft smile accompanied this sudden shift, making V's heart melt. Just to see that small grin light up Evey's eyes and give Evey a small comfort made the effort well worth it.

After leaving the memorial, V had decided to make his way to Evey's flat. Although he was certain Evey would do fine without the domino, he thought it would provide Evey with a sense of familiarity and comfort during one of the most important moments of her life. Although no one would have questioned him, V still stuck to using the fire escape leading to Evey's window.

Initially, V was concerned that Evey would have tucked the small object into a nook that only she knew about. He was pleasantly surprised to see it standing upright right on top of Evey's wooden dresser. V reached out and gently removed it from its spot. He turned it over in his hands reverently; it had been a long time since he had seen this domino. The paint was beginning to fade slightly around the edges, presumably from Evey's hands. V could just picture Evey sitting in her office, carefully stroking the small block of wood with a look of fierce concentration.

And now, V just knew that that was exactly what Evey was doing now as she prepared to give her speech. After a brief moment, Evey seemed to remember what she was supposed to be doing, and looked up from the podium to survey the crowd. V could almost feel the pride emanating from the woman standing on stage as she took in the people before her.

Her voice rung out with clarity and confidence, carrying out across the crowd. Like every other person listening, V hung on Evey's every word, glued to the spot. Her speech was eloquent and moving, as he had expected it would be. She spoke with such conviction and passion, reminding V exactly why he had fallen in love with her.

Then, Evey received the all important envelope. V could feel the mounting tension in the people surrounding him; even V had to remind himself to breath. Evey looked no different. Some of the color had drained from her face. Her brows were raised, and her eyes were wide. V could tell that she was trying to compose herself, and look unperturbed, but she couldn't help herself. V could hardly blame her.

Right as Evey opened her mouth to speak, a collective gasp went over the crowd. This was the moment they had all been waiting so long for; many never imagined a day like this would ever come. It was an incredible feeling to be among the people he liberated for this momentous occasion. Seeing the fruition of his vendetta up close and personal meant the world to him. V wouldn't have had it any other way.

When Evey read the election results, there was an explosion of noise and emotion. People all around him turned to hug each other or shake hands. V himself was clapped on the back several times, and shook hands with some complete strangers. On stage, Evey was grinning from ear to ear. Eric Finch, the now officially elected Prime Minister, was smiling as well, although he seemed to be in a bit of shock at the moment.

This was, admittedly, the result that V had been hoping for. Although he would have been pleased with the election results regardless, knowing that a man he and Evey trusted was in power put V at ease. The revolution was still young, and it would not take much to derail it. Many could still be traitors, working against it. It was a relief to know that Finch would lead the country forward while the final kinks were worked out. Eric Finch was exactly the man the country needed.

* * *

"_The people of England have elected to make the current, interim government a permanent fixture."_

Eric Finch almost wasn't sure he heard those words correctly. Initially, he was simply paralyzed with shock. It was only when the crowd erupted and Evey turned to look at him with a triumphant smile that the words actually sunk in. A smile of disbelief creeped onto his lips, and he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

Prime Minister Eric Finch.

Now, he had plenty of time to fully accept that title. The _official_ title. He was now officially elected, not just hand-picked. The people had actually wanted him to lead their country, and that gave him an incredible amount of pride, while at the same time gave him incredibly humility. It truly was an honor to be able to serve the people who stood before him.

Among the crowd, he saw his closest friend Dominic Stone, laughing and trying to hold back tears at the same time. Over the past few weeks, they had talked a lot about what would happen if Finch won the election, and what would happen if he had lost. Dominic insisted that Finch should take up his old job as Head Inspector if he lost, although he seriously doubted he would lose. Eric would hear nothing of it; Stone was well suited to the position, and Eric would never want to take it from him. Seeing him now, though, brought a smile to his face. Eric caught his eye, and they shared a brief nod. That was all they needed to convey everything they wanted to say.

Gordon and Philip were sitting in the front row as well, and both were cheering in excitement. They caught his eye and waved happily, and Finch nodded to them as well. He had gotten to know Gordon much better through their close working relationship, and subsequently, he had gotten close to Philip as well. He was very pleased to see them here now. They were quite the amusing pair, and Finch greatly enjoyed spending time with them. He and Evey had had dinner with them several times following work meetings, and the four of them always had a wonderful time together. Speaking of Evey, Finch glanced at the young woman who was still standing near the podium.

She was positively beaming; when Eric stood to wave at the mass of people before them, Evey took this opportunity to approach him and wrap him in a tight hug.

"I hate to say I told you so, but…" Evey laughed.

"For once Evey, I'm more than happy to hear you say that," Finch laughed in agreement.

Once Evey released him, Finch was suddenly overwhelmed with people swarming around him. All of the foreign diplomats, who had been sitting on stage with them, were now shaking his hand and offering congratulations. Some even clapped him on the back, as if they had been friends for years. It was all Eric Finch could do to smile, nod, and say thank you politely to everyone who approached him. The crowd was still roaring in excitement, and between handshakes, Finch would give a quick wave to the people. _His _people.

* * *

It had taken Evey close to an hour and a half to finally break away from the festivities following the announcement. Everyone had decided it necessary to celebrate, so they had adjourned to Jordon Tower, where most of the officials would enjoy the fireworks ceremony. Evey, however, had other plans for the fireworks. She had explained this to Eric, who was very understanding. He knew that this was something incredibly important to the revolutionary, and it was something that he and Evey should share alone.

After sharing only one drink with the dignitaries, Finch, Stone, Gordon, and Philip, in addition to several other important officials, Evey feigned exhaustion and light-headedness. This earned her sympathy all around, as well as several offers to be driven home. Evey politely refused, saying she would simply hail a cab. After insisting on this for the umpteenth time, Evey was finally able to escape.

The air outside Jordon Tower was cool and full of electricity. It felt akin to walking outside during an electrical storm; Evey could feel the city pulsating beneath her feet and wrapping around her as the wind blew. The country was about to be reborn, and it could certainly tell.

Evey walked quickly down the street, drawing in some of the energy from all around her. The streets were humming with people, many still in costume. Children ran through throngs of people, chasing after one another. A year ago, the people were still scared. The revolution had barely taken flight, and many were unsure. Now, however, it was clear that everyone was certain with the path they had chosen.

Evey was so engrossed in her thoughts that she was hardly paying any attention, let alone watching where she was walking. She suddenly bumped roughly into a man still in costume. Evey stumbled, but quickly caught herself before she fell over completely.

"Oh I'm so sorry sir! I wasn't paying any attention…" Evey paused suddenly, narrowing her eyes at the tall, broad man in front of her. "V? Is that you?"

There was something about the man before her; something in the way he carried himself that was so unmistakably "V", that Evey was caught entirely off guard. She was also quick to notice the man's all too familiar stature, and the quality of his dress. The mask smiled just a little bit wider, as if it was trying to hold back laughter. It didn't succeed.

A deep, familiar laugh escaped the man before her, confirming that this was indeed the true masked vigilante, not an imposter. He bowed deeply before responding:

"At you service, m'lady," He looked up from his bow. "Have I ever told you, Evey, how astute your powers of observation are?"

Evey rolled her eyes, smiling all the while, "Several times, actually."

Now, Evey was finally able to have what she had so desired all day. She closed the distance between herself and V in one fluid stride, and wrapped her arms tightly around him. V was quick to return the embrace, resting his chin on the crown of Evey's head.

"You were positively marvelous, Evey. Absolutely flawless," V whispered. "I couldn't be more proud of you."

"Thank you, V. That means more than you know," Evey responded. V felt the smile on Evey's lips on his chest.

Evey drew back suddenly, and held out her hand. Resting on top of her palm was the lone domino. The brilliant, blood red wood made Evey's creamy skin seem even more pale than usual. V looked up from her hand to her face. She was smiling softly, and a look of gratefulness could be found in her eyes.

"And thank you for this too," Evey said quietly.

"I was more than happy to retrieve it for you, love," V replied, taking Evey's empty hand in his. "I'll admit I was quite pleased to find it in your possession."

Evey laughed, and ran her thumb over the domino, "It's just a reminder of what I'm doing this for. This little domino and I have been through a lot together."

"And it was only fitting that it should accompany you on stage today," V concluded.

Now, walking hand in hand, V began to lead Evey through the twists and turns of downtown London. She had no idea where she was being lead, and to her, their wandering seemed quite aimless. It appeared that V was simply choosing random places to turn off, and was making up his route as he went along. This suited Evey just fine; she was more than happy to walk hand in hand with V down the main streets of her city.

They enjoyed lively conversation; Evey told V all about how wonderful lunch was, and the new alliances that were in the making. For his own part, V loved hearing the enthusiasm dripping from Evey's words; she was positively exuberant, although he completely understood why.

The speeches had lasted until around seven that evening, and the fireworks were to go off at midnight. By the time Evey had met up with V, it was nearly nine o'clock. And after wandering the streets for close to two hours, V decided that it was time to make their way to their final destination for the evening.

Night had swallowed the city whole, leaving it shrouded in darkness and shadows. This was V's domain; he felt far more at ease now that his longtime ally was back on his side once more. Normally, V would have stuck to the shadows to make his way through London. However, due to the circumstances, he and Evey simply continued their stroll down the illuminated streets.

Despite the late hour and chill in the air, people still milled about the streets. A large gathering was set to take place at the site of Parliament, where the speeches had been earlier that day. They passed countless couples or groups of friends on their way to Parliament. Each time, Evey and V nodded politely or called out a friendly greeting. Evey was not recognized, due to the low light, although she didn't mind. Now, all she wanted was to melt into the masses with V to celebrate the new dawn of the country, as he had wanted for everyone to do the night of the Fifth.

At this point, Evey still had no idea where V was leading her. They continued to walk for a few more minutes, before V suddenly froze. Evey hadn't noticed, and only stopped when she was met with resistance. Evey turned to look at V with a confused look on her face.

"What's wrong, V?" She asked, suddenly on edge. Evey glanced around quickly, trying to take in her surroundings and make quick observations. V's training was already working.

"Nothing, Evey," V chuckled softly at her sudden reaction. It was pleasing to see his training in action.

"Then why did we stop?"

"Perhaps I merely wanted to gaze at the stars. Perhaps I wanted to simply pause and relish in the wonderful London evening. Or, perhaps I simply wanted to stop a moment and rest," V waved his arm dramatically towards the sky.

Evey rolled her eyes at him, "Be serious, V. What's going on?"

"I simply need you to close your eyes," V instructed. Evey narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, which only caused V to laugh all the more. "Please, Evey? It would ruin the surprise."

"And if I refuse?"

V pulled Evey close to him once more, "I could always resort to force. I did bring a blind fold in the event you wouldn't cooperate. Although I was hoping to avoid that last resort. I would hate to be detained by the London's finest for kidnapping."

Evey groaned, and made a show of closing her eyes.

"Better?"

Beneath the mask, V smirked. "Much."

They continued on their way, although now, V had a much more secure grip on Evey. His arm was wrapped protectively around her waist, preventing her from falling. V rolled his eyes as he watched Evey hold her arms out in front of herself. They both knew full well that she would not be falling on his watch.

Eventually, the destination came into sight. It was an old office building that had been blocked off years ago. According to V's research, the previous company had sold out to a real estate developer who never followed up on tearing the building down. This suited him just fine.

V lead Evey to a section of fence that he had pulled aside earlier, and guided her through. Once past the fence, they made their way towards a door on the back side of the building. It was unlocked; V had broken this lock long ago, and saw no reason to ever repair it. The tenants obviously didn't care enough about the building to have it repaired either.

Evey had been listening intently, hoping for any clues as to where they were going. She had recognized the sound of a chain link fence, in addition to the creaking sound of a rusted door. In the back of her mind, all of it sounded familiar, although she couldn't quite place where she had heard these sounds before.

"V, I trust that whatever it is we're doing won't get us arrested for breaking and entering?" Evey asked, only half kidding. Explaining who V was to the police didn't sound like the most appealing idea.

"I make no promises," V replied mysteriously. He leaned in closer to Evey's ear, "But when has breaking the law ever stopped you before, my dear?"

Evey opened her mouth to fire off a retort, but could not find the words. Instead, she simply clamped her mouth shut and held her tongue.

The building they were now in echoed ominously, adding to Evey's eerie sense of déjà-vu. V directed her to the left, and Evey had no choice but to follow. She heard V open yet another creaky door, which she was quickly ushered past.

Suddenly, Evey was swept off of her feet, resulting in a startled yelp. She felt the deep rumble in V's chest that followed her reaction. Instinctively, Evey wrapped her arms tightly around V's neck while he cradled her against his chest.

Then, V began to ascend the flight of stairs. He moved quickly; his long legs allowed him to take the steps two at time with ease. It took them less than a minute to reach the top flight of stairs, where V gently righted the young woman in his arms. V twisted the knob to the final door, and pushed it open before helping Evey out.

They were outside. Evey was met by the sudden chill of the crisp London air, and she sucked in a deep breath. It was also windy where they were, although it hadn't been windy when they first entered the building. Evey finally gasped in realization. She knew exactly where they were.

When her eyes fluttered open, her suspicion had been confirmed. They were standing on the rooftop where Evey had watched V destroy the Old Bailey.

Evey's initial reaction was to let out a laugh of disbelief. She had never once considered returning to this spot; in fact, she often fantasized that Sutler would have had the building torn down to keep the masses in check. Standing here now was utterly surreal.

"V…" Evey began, but found that she didn't have words sufficient enough to describe this moment. Instead, she simply stared at the sprawling city before her. The twinkling lights of the city looked back at her, winking.

All V could do was watch a dumbstruck Evey as she surveyed the cityscape. With one look at her wonder-filled face, V knew that he couldn't have selected a more appropriate venue for their festivities that evening.

After several long minutes of silence, V approached Evey and offered her his hand. Evey took it readily, and flashed V a dazzling smile.

"I don't know what to say, V. This is just…perfect. Truly," Evey whispered before wrapping herself securely into V's side. V draped his cloak around Evey, bringing them even closer and helping to keep the chill of the winter air at bay. V smiled as he felt Evey snuggle closer to him.

"I thought it might be appropriate to watch from where it all began."

Far off in the distance, Evey and V could hear a very faint countdown begin. The tension mounted while the time worked down, moving agonizingly slowly. The pair standing alone on the rooftop stood, holding their breath.

Just then, a blazing trail of sparkling light shot high into the sky before exploding into a brilliant burst of red. Even from their vantage point, high above the city, Evey and V could hear the distant cheers of the people gathered at parliament.

The first rocket was soon followed by a volley of others, all in dazzling shades of gold, blue, green, and red. Evey gasped and clapped her hands in delight. The fireworks light up the sky; some simply exploded, while others spun in wild patterns. Evey was particularly fond of the golden streamers that streaked high up, before bursting into a ball of twinkling sparkles.

Evey and V stood riveted to the spot for the duration of the show, which went on for nearly fifteen minutes. The finale was an enormous cacophony; even from where she stood, Evey could feel the explosions to her core. They ended it all with vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows, meant to simulate the explosion that had rocked parliament more than a year ago.

"That was incredible!" Evey laughed, looking up at the mask.

As usual, Guy Fawkes betrayed no emotions. But Evey could still feel the smile behind the mask, as well as the happiness, pride, and relief that emanated from the man himself. V stared straight ahead, at where the fireworks had been, almost as if he was expecting something else to happen. Evey followed V's gaze, but saw nothing that was out of place.

"V?"

Suddenly, Evey's question was answered. Another red trail shot to the sky, quickly followed by several more. The crowd began cheering again, thinking that there was a second part of the demonstration. Evey knew this to be false; she had been on the planning committee for the fireworks ceremony, and knew what to expect. She glanced up at V with a look of confusion, and as before, was met by the emotionless face of Fawkes.

The red fireworks were quickly followed by more, only these ones exploded for a second time while suspended in the air. After these red rockets, Evey smiled softly to see vibrant purple ones shoot up; the violet to her Viola. Following these was another set of red, although these were much different. They began as normal, red fireworks, but once they exploded, they suddenly faded to gold. Evey had never seen fireworks like these, and gasped in awe.

Finally, a mixture of the three came together for the grand finale. When the final fireworks faded, two rockets shot into the air. Only one exploded, while the other split off from itself suddenly. And there in the London sky, was V's insignia, once again.

V looked down at Evey, whose mouth was agape. V couldn't help the laughter that escaped his lips as he watched Evey open and close her mouth repeatedly, searching for words. After several attempts to speak, Evey simply closed her mouth, furrowed her brow, and stared expectantly up at V. If she couldn't find the words, certainly he could.

V shrugged nonchalantly, "Pyrotechnics are a specialty of mine."

Evey couldn't help but laugh. It was such a typical "V" thing to do, that she really should have been suspecting something like this. Seeing as how Evey could hardly form a coherent sentence, V continued:

"I hope you don't mind, love, but I simply could not resist adding my own special touch to the display."

Finally composing herself, Evey wiggled out of V's side to move directly in front of him. She wrapped her arms delicately around his neck before slowly placing a tender kiss on Fawkes' lips. It certainly couldn't compare to the real kisses they had been sharing as of late, but it would suit her needs for now.

"Of course I don't mind," she whispered when hers lips finally left the mask. "I don't think it would have been complete without your own little bit of flair."

V wound his arms around Evey once more, drawing the warmth of his cloak around them both. No words were said, because none were needed. V simply held Evey, while she held him. They stayed locked in this tender embrace for a long while, simply enjoying the feeling of their country's rebirth.

**A/N**

**Holy crap! I hope y'all enjoyed that, because it is one of my favorite chapters! Sorry about the wait, as usual. I had the ACT, and the AP testing was the last two weeks, and now, I have finals in a week. Damn. Anyway, once the summer gets going, so will the updates. Hopefully. ;) **

**Thanks to everyone who wished me luck on my ACT, or gave me some advice. In case anybody cared, I got a 28 which improved my practice scores. **

** PRPride13 Your review was especially sweet, so thank you so much for that, and I really hope you enjoyed this one! (And I do have an A in my AP lang class ;D )**

**R&R my sweets, until next time! **


	24. Chapter 24

**Ugh that was rough, I'm so sorry about the delay you guys. Finals week just caught up with me. And the first week of summer I had literally zero motivation for anything, including what I love to do like write. Anyway. On to the chapter!**

Chapter 24

"Morning, Eric!"

Prime Minister Eric Finch looked up from the documents on his desk, only to find a beaming Evey Hammond entering his office, coffee in hand. He waved her in, although it hardly mattered at this point. Finch shuffled some papers aside and motioned for Evey to have a seat across from him.

"Good morning, Evey." He replied with a smile.

"I hope you don't mind, but I had to come wish you well on your first day on job!" Evey laughed, handing Eric's coffee over to him. "Black, like you like it."

"Thank you, Evey. That's very sweet of you," Finch sipped the dark, steaming liquid. The warmth immediately spread through him, invigorating him. Only then did Finch remember that he had been in such a rush this morning he forgot his morning cup. He was very grateful that Evey had brought him this; it was exactly the pick-up he needed.

"So how has your first official day in office been?"

Finch chuckled, "Evey, I've hardly been here an hour. Not much has happened."

"Well, you know what they say. No news is good news, right?" she shrugged, taking a sip of her own coffee. Finch simply laughed once again before taking another sip from his own cup. They stayed in that companionable silence for a few minutes, simply enjoying their coffee. Evey suddenly put down her cup, remembering something she was going to say earlier.

"By the way, V sends his congratulations. He was very pleased with the results of the election."

Finch smiled, "Tell him thank you, from me. It really does mean a lot, coming from him."

And it did. Knowing that the very man who started this revolution approved of his election gave Eric immeasurable confidence and relief. It made him realize that perhaps, he actually was cut out for this job.

"Well, what's on the agenda for today? Anything exciting?" Evey asked.

Finch shrugged, looking at his papers. "Not really. I have a few briefings to go to, and then while some of the other heads of state are still in London we were going to continue working out the alliances."

Evey nodded thoughtfully. She was very eager to get the alliances sorted out, as it meant that the road to economic recovery would begin sooner. Additionally, they would now have the protection of other countries while England continued to rebuild. This way, they would not be attacked while they were so vulnerable.

It was also important that they begin establishing trade once more. Sutler had kept a tight hold on trade, which had devastated the economy. Now, they were hoping to join the open market once again and begin flourishing.

"That's wonderful news Eric. Keep me posted. And if you need me to charm any of them, do let me know," she winked. This caused them both to burst into more lighthearted laughter, which was soon followed by more banter.

They talked for a little while longer, talking mostly of the revolution, but also of their personal plans and goals for the New Year. Finch was excited to announce that he was planning on training for a marathon, while Evey was committing herself to delving more into the arts. It was her goal to read more of the books hidden in the Gallery, and attend a majority of the plays put on by the recovering theatre program.

Evey finished her coffee and stood, Finch not far behind her. "Well, I really should let you get back to your duties, Eric. It was lovely to see you. Congratulations again!"

"The pleasure was all mine, Evey. I'll give you a call after the meetings to let you know how they go."

Finch smiled, and walked around his desk to escort Evey out of his office. They shared a brief hug before Evey turned and walked out of Eric's office. He watched her until she reached the elevator, and then he turned to return to his own work. Finch glanced at the large stack of paperwork awaiting him and let out a sharp breath.

"Let the games begin."

* * *

The frigid English wind ripped at the short curls of hair that peeked out from under Evey's hat. The sudden chill sucked away Evey's breath, and when she finally regained it, it came out in a puff. She pulled her coat more tightly around herself and set off at a brisk pace, trying to beat the cold January air.

Her car was parked in the garage, which was about a block away from Eric's office building. Her plan was to drive over to her office and get a few hours of work finished. She wasn't actually expected in the office today, but she wanted to get a jump on the work that was beginning to accumulate from her holiday break. After she went to the office, she told V she would be down to visit him later that evening.

Just as Evey was rounding the corner to head towards the parking garage, she ran headlong into a young man. Thankfully, she caught herself before she fell completely, but she couldn't say the same thing for the young man sprawled on the ground before her. Immediately, Evey bent down to help him to his feet.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying any attention!" Evey exclaimed, offering the young man her hand. "Here, let me help you."

The man must have been in his early twenties, and even with a bulky coat on, Evey could tell that he was very thin Sprigs of vibrant, blonde hair stuck out from under his cap. He appeared to be in some sort of hurry, because he quickly scrambled to his feet, refusing Evey's help.

"It's alright miss," He mumbled, never looking at Evey. She furrowed her brows in concern. Was he hurt?

Evey placed her hand on his shoulder, causing the already jumpy man spin to confront her. His face was twisted into a look of impatience and frustration, and also a bit of fear. But when his startlingly blue eyes met Evey's hazel ones, all the color completely flushed from his face. His eyes widened, and he took two large steps back.

"Are you alright?" Evey asked. "I'm terribly sorry if I've upset you."

The man began to stammer, "N-no m-m-miss. I-I'm just r-running late. S-sorry."

With that, the young man turned abruptly on his heal and ran around the corner. Evey stood, frozen to the spot. She was very confused. When he had actually looked at her, she knew that he must have recognized who she was. There was no denying his sudden change in demeanor. But he looked…scared, almost. Why would he be scared of her? She had met many of the citizens, and any time she was approached on the street, she was always very amicable. Evey prided herself on being approachable.

Why was the man so nervous in the first place? Was he in some sort of trouble? Maybe he was being pursued? He did look rather frightened, even before he saw Evey. Evey shook her head; she was being foolish. She reasoned that he must have only been running late for work.

Evey shrugged, and then continued on her way to her car. She was certain she was reading into the man's reaction. Maybe she would ask V about it later.

* * *

It was just his luck, Christopher thought. Of course he would run into Evey Hammond on the way to one of the most important meetings of his life.

Of course he would.

How easy would it have been for him to simply reach into his pocket and take out the knife he kept there? How easy would it have been for him to simply hit her over the head? He would have gone to the meeting, bearing the prize they so desperately sought. Christopher Denning would have been hailed as a hero.

But instead, he was weak. Actually seeing the target of the organization in front of him, offering her hand to him, had sent him into a panic. Instead of doing what would have been so _easy, _he had turned and fled like the coward he was.

Christopher cursed under his breath, damning the cruel mistress of fate. She was simply taunting him, now. Had Hammond bummed into any other rebel, had fate sent another man in his place, she would most certainly be dead or at least captive once again. Fate knew that he would not be able to do anything. Fate only wanted to remind him of what a failure he was.

This had been the case his entire life. Christopher Denning had grown up in the shadow of his older brother Greg, who was perfect in every sense of the word. Handsome, smart, charming, talented, successful. He was everything that Christopher wasn't, and he was constantly reminded of his fact.

Perhaps that was why he had gone on to become a Fingerman. He had only just completed his training when the Old Bailey had been destroyed in a blaze of glory. Christopher thought it was a noble career; one that he could be proud of, and his parents could be proud of. And one that his brother couldn't help but be jealous of.

And for a time, they were proud of him. They would go to a party and announce that their son was now a Finger. His brother clapped him on the back, and congratulated him in that booming voice of his when he joined the force. And, he was doing his part to help the party. At this rate, he was sure he would move his way up the ranks and become everything he had always dreamed of.

But when the revolution took flight, everything changed. People began to see Fingermen in a new light. Where once he was respected, he was now loathed and scorned. His brother now looked at him in contempt; his parents spoke to him in scathing tones, whispering about him when his back was turned.

Christopher Denning had lost everything, all thanks to that murderous psychopath in that damned Guy Fawkes mask. V.

He was angry and bitter, and full of nothing but hatred. But there was nothing he could do, except keep his head down and ride out the storm of revolution. He had had unwavering faith in Norsefire; surely they would crush this pesky revolt before it even began. But that never happened. He had never expected the revolution to take such a tenacious hold in the people, let alone topple the regime. With the party gone, that meant the Finger would be gone as well. And without that, Christopher was nothing.

However, Christopher wasn't expecting the whispers of a rebel organization. One day, a friend of his had slipped him a note while they were having lunch in a diner. It detailed a meeting taking place in an old warehouse, but it said nothing more. At that meeting, the rebels planned their very first attack: kidnapping Evey Hammond.

Since then, Christopher had been to every meeting. This was the only thing in his life that had any purpose. The revolution had taken away everything that mattered to him; so it was his goal to take away the revolution.

But damn him! He had such an incredible opportunity to do just that, and he _failed_! Christopher pulled his cap down over his greasy blond mop, and wrapped his scarf more tightly around himself. Then, he fumed down the street towards his intended destination, hating himself the entire way there.

* * *

As Evey walked the rest of the way to her car, still thinking about her strange encounter, her head was snapped roughly to the side. Evey gasped in shock, cold snow stinging her cheek, making her eyes water. Her hand immediately flew to her face, which was now covered in melting snow.

Childish giggling erupted off to her side, and Evey snapped her head towards the sudden clamor. She was met by four round faces, whose noses and cheeks were a vibrant shade of pink.

Much like the young man only moments ago, when the children recognized their victim, a look of terror crossed their faces. Their giggling immediately ceased, and they were suddenly paralyzed. One child dropped a half-packed snowball.

"Which one of you threw that?" Evey asked, injecting an air of authority into her voice.

All four children looked wildly from one another, and fingers flew. After a few quick whispers, shoves, and prods, a young boy suddenly stepped forward. He was much smaller than his friends, leading Evey to think he might be a year or two younger. Perhaps a younger sibling that had tagged along?

"It was me, miss," The little boy said in a timid, quivering voice. He looked forlornly at the ground, no doubt expecting a very firm punishment.

"And what is your name?"

"D-David," he whispered. Evey nodded, as though she were considering how harsh she should make his punishment. David's friends stared with wide eyes.

"Tell me, David, do you know who I am?" Still maintaining her commanding tone of voice.

"You're Evey Hammond," David was so quiet now, Evey wasn't quite sure he had actually said anything.

"That's right. Now, do you know the punishment for this type of offense?"

David sucked in a sharp breath, and barely managed to shake his head.

"For the crime of hitting an unarmed civilian in the heat of battle, all other soldiers, including the victim of your heinous attack, are all given a free shot at you!" Evey cried suddenly, scooping up a handful of snow and throwing it at the young boy.

David shrieked in surprise, before he began laughing. His friends soon joined in, and were quick to launch their free shots. Evey laughed heartily, a deep, primal sort of joy reaching into her soul. Watching these innocent, care free children playing without the fear of Fingermen or the curfew warmed her to her very core. As she watched them, Evey suddenly saw the future before her.

She wished that V was there to witness the moment with her.

The sheer incredulity of the situation struck her; not long ago, seeing children playing outside in the snow would have been very bizarre indeed. Parents tended to keep their children inside, for fear of patrols and Fingermen. All the change that had swallowed up the city never ceased to amaze Evey; she hoped that she would never lose this newfound sense of amazement.

Evey was stirred from her thoughts when another snowball hit her, this time in the shoulder. She gasped dramatically, pretending that she sustained a fatal wound. David and his friends thought that this was a wonderful show, and clapped and laughed in delight. Evey laughed right alongside them, before she quickly launched another volley of snowballs at the surprised children.

"No fair, you're bigger than us!" One of the children cried.

Evey laughed, "You can't be afraid to stand up against something or someone bigger than you. Besides, it's four against one! There is strength in numbers!"

It was an uncanny metaphor, Evey realized. This snowball fight was truly the revolution. Many smaller individuals fighting against a gargantuan entity, trying to take it down. The only problem with that metaphor was that in this case, Evey had to play the part of Norsefire. She smiled at the irony; she certainly didn't mind in this instance.

Evey and the children, who she learned were named David, Maxwell, Camille, and Emma, played in the snow for nearly an hour. They engaged in an epic battle between good and evil, and in the end, Evey allowed herself to be vanquished by the four young heroes. She fell dramatically to the ground, and the children pranced victoriously around her. Evey couldn't recall a time when she enjoyed being defeated like this. She also couldn't recall the last time she had laughed so much at one time, except for perhaps her dinners with Gordon.

Finally though, Evey decided it would be best to leave. She was dressed for work, certainly not for playing in the snow, and now she was soaked through to the bone and utterly freezing. Quickly, Evey gathered her brief case and purse, which were sitting next to the snow fort Evey had built to defend herself.

The children all groaned and begged Evey to stay for just a few minutes longer. They clung to her legs, looking at her with their wide, imploring eyes. Evey almost caved in, but a sudden gust of wind caused her to shiver violently, and she knew she really had to go.

"I'm so sorry, but I really should be going," said Evey, gently pushing a strand of Camille's hair out of her face. "I'm not dressed properly to play in the snow, and I would hate to catch a cold."

They all shared their goodbyes. Each child latched onto Evey for a hug, although Evey felt it was more like embracing four very excited pythons. After each child had given Evey an extra hug, a high five, and yet another hug, Evey was finally able to make her way to her car. Evey looked over her shoulder to wave one last time, while behind her they called out their goodbyes. She could hear them until she entered the parking garage.

Evey was desperately in need of a change of clothes, a hot shower, and a cup of tea. Completely abandoning her plans to go into the office, Evey guided her car towards the Shadow Gallery. V wasn't expecting her until later, but she doubted he would mind if she came to visit him earlier.

As she usually did when she drove to the Gallery, Evey parked a short distance away from one of the tube stations to avoid suspicion.

The chill in the tunnels was unbelievable; they were always a good deal colder than outside. That, paired with her soaking clothes, caused Evey to shiver and her teeth to chatter. Evey laughed to herself, thinking that V would certainly have no trouble hearing her coming.

She was right. When she opened the door to the Gallery, she saw V leaning casually against the piano, waiting for her. His head snapped up once he saw Evey enter the door, but Evey saw his air of nonchalance drop instantly once he saw the condition she was in. Evey gave him a sheepish smile.

"Evey, what on earth happened to you? Come inside, you'll catch your death out there!" he chastised tenderly. V moved towards Evey instantly, helping her out of her coat. He took her things from her and set them down on the side table before he quickly ushered Evey towards the bathroom.

"May I inquire as to how you arrived at such a state, my dear?" V asked, unable to hide the concern in his voice. He truly hoped that nothing terrible had happened to her, and he was unable to assist her.

"I may have gotten myself into a bit of a…confrontation, of sorts."

V's eyes widened. As calmly as he could manage, V asked, "What do you mean?"

Evey shrugged. V wasn't sure if her casualness should be taken as a sign to worry, or to be relieved.

"I was on my way to the office after I went to chat with Eric when suddenly, I was up against four attackers." Evey glanced at V out of the corner of her eye to catch his reaction. The mask looked directly at her, and V had become rigid. Evey tried her very best to maintain her composure.

"What happened then, Evey?" V asked, his voice tight.

"I confronted them, of course. Isn't that what you've been training me to do?"

V threw up his hands in exasperation. Of course he wanted Evey to have the skills, but it was incredibly upsetting to hear that Evey had had to go up against four attackers _alone_. They were skills that V hoped she would never have to use. Besides, the skills he was teaching her were for self defense, not a full on fight situation.

"Evey…" V was cut off by Evey's sudden laughter. This was certainly an interesting reaction. Perhaps she had sustained another head injury, and was delirious? "Evey, what is going on?"

"Oh, V, it was entirely innocent. I walked into the crossfire of a snowball fight, and got hit with a snowball. My four attackers? They were four delightful little children." Evey laughed, unable to maintain the charade any longer.

V let out a sharp breath. Oh, she certainly did drive him insane at times. But he knew he wouldn't have it any other way; usually, he found it quite endearing.

"Evey _please_ don't worry me like that." V chided gently before joining in Evey's laughter.

"I'm sorry, V. But I simply couldn't resist. You really do overreact sometimes," Evey smiled.

V rolled his eyes, "Evey, with your propensity for attracting trouble, I have every right to. Now come, I'll draw you a hot bath and start some tea. Let's get you warmed up."

* * *

"What's the password?"

Christopher Denning looked up from the ground, still lost in thought and self-loathing. He was surprised to see a different guard standing outside the old storefront the rebels had been frequenting. The man was incredibly broad; so much so, that he almost blocked the door entirely with his bulk. Christopher couldn't get a very good look at his face, as it was bunched up under a cap and wrapped tightly with a scarf.

Usually, the man they had guarding the place was far less innocuous, so as to raise fewer questions. Generally, when a small, sniveling weasel stood smoking outside some old establishment, people didn't pay much attention. But put a man of this size outside the secret meeting place was risky. He wasn't even playing it off; he looked exactly like the clichéd guards in every movie Christopher had ever seen.

"Where's Mack?" asked Christopher, ignoring the new guard's request.

"Do you know the password, or don't you mate? I don't want to make a scene here," The man replied in a gruff voice.

He rolled his eyes, "Did you catch the game last night? I wasn't able to since my wife had to watch her stories."

This satisfied the guard, and he slid over just enough to let Christopher pass by. The passwords were changed at every meeting, and the rule was that you had to incorporate it into some sort of casual conversation in case someone was walking by. This suited Christopher just fine; he always felt quite clever doing this, as though he were a spy.

The curtains in the shop windows had been drawn shut, and the only source of light was a dim bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling. Old shelves and tables littered the front, all of which were covered in a fine layer of grime. They were in a poorer district of London, and not many were interested in the real estate here. The shop had been neglected for years.

The meeting itself never actually took place in the front, should anyone actually sneak a peek passed the guard and the curtains. Instead, the rebels always met in the cellar. The quarters were always cramped, especially if one arrived late. Thankfully, Christopher was early, despite his run in with Evey.

Stupid, stupid!

He continued to berate himself as he trotted down the creaky wooden steps that lead into the cellar. He was met by a rotting wooden door at the end of the staircase. Soft light seeped out from under it and through the cracks in the wood, while soft voices could be heard from just beyond the threshold.

Christopher pushed it open and walked into the room. All eyes were on him as he entered. It was hard to ignore the feeling of contempt in some of them; even amongst his comrades, he wasn't particularly popular. Somehow, the stares felt just a bit harsher tonight. Almost as though they all knew about his failure to capture Evey Hammond. Christopher shook these thoughts from his mind.

Some of the men waved or nodded at him before going back to their conversations. One younger man, around Christopher's age, called him over to where he was sitting.

"Chris! I saved you a seat," he smiled eagerly.

"Thanks, Mack. They didn't have you working the door tonight?" Christopher slid into the rickety chair Mack had reserved for him. He quickly shed his outerwear; the air in the cellar was already stuffy and muggy.

"They wanted George to do it; said that tonight's meeting is too important to take chances," Mack shrugged, his eyes darting around the room. He always had the impression of a bird, never able to look in one place for too long.

His statement did pique Christopher's interest, though. The last few meetings had been brief, and served merely to restate the mission of the resistance and ensure that communication with all cells was up to par. But if this meeting was important, that must mean that they would be making a move soon.

Chris tingled in excitement. This is what he had been waiting for. Action. And after his failure to act not long ago, he was ready to prove himself again.

Knowing that the meeting was of high importance made time move even slower as they waited for a few more rebels to trickle into the room and find a seat. What was closer to fifteen minutes really felt like hours to Christopher; he wasn't paying any attention to Mack blabbering on, or the other hushed conversations in the room. He only wanted to know the plan. He only wanted to act.

Finally, a tall man towards the end of the cellar rose and cleared his throat. A hush immediately fell over the crowd. The man before them commanded unwavering attention. His statue was impressive, and was topped off with a thick lock of jet black hair, a sharp jaw, and piercing grey eyes. He was one of the younger members of the organization, but was so charismatic and passionate, that he had fallen into the good graces of the older members.

When Roger, their original mastermind, had been captured, George Listler had taken charge. But after his imprisonment, there had been a power struggle. This sent a deep rift through the organization, which devastated them. There was a time when individual cells branched off, weakening X as a whole. They were on the edge of oblivion; they had been moments from destroying themselves.

That was before Charles Betancourt.

Something about his persona commanded complete respect, fear, and submission. He had stepped in during a time of turmoil, and with a flippant wave of his hand, the fragmented cells had become a cohesive unit once more. No one doubted his ability to lead them forward, and all had the utmost respect for him. Christopher included.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I've called this meeting to discuss the future of this organization, and the actions we intend to take. Is everyone important here?" Charles began in a rich, resonant voice. Without waiting for any confirmation, he continued.

"I've come to the realization, as I'm sure some of you have, that we have been going about this entire rebellion all wrong. We've wasted so much time and energy on that bitch Evey Hammond," he practically spat her name, which made Chris all the more upset at having failed. "I'm sure some of you have shared this sentiment: We need to take this to the top. While Hammond is a symbol for the revolution, she has no power over the country. Not _real_ power."

A soft murmur rippled through the group, but it was quickly silenced by an icy glare from Betancourt.

"We've tried this once before, but it was too indirect. If we want to succeed, which I trust _all_ of you do, we have to take drastic measures."

Christopher's heart nearly stopped when Charles Betancourt's steel grey eyes met his.

"We're going to kill Eric Finch."

* * *

**A/N Hey everyone! Like I said up top, I just got a little overwhelmed and had no motivation etc. etc. I hope you enjoyed this. It was a bit shorter, and supposed to serve as a bit of a filler in addition to building up to some action later on. In case you couldn't tell. **

**Shout out to the guest reviewer of all my chapters, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! Damn, your reviews just made me smile like crazy please please please get an account so I can properly shout out to you because you're kind of my favorite. (Also, thanks for your comment about smirks. I see your point, but I see it sometimes as like a cheeky lil smile or something. Thanks for the input though!) Your reviews really pushed me to write this out, despite having no motivation. Gold stars and roses for youuuu! **

**If you're feeling a little blue about the lack of fluff in the last chapters that have been very revolution-centric, I have a feeling you'll reeeeally enjoy the next chapter. ;) Until next time, lovelies. Keep reviewing, it keeps me so motivated I can't explain this to you enough. **


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